


The Cadence of Time

by Spooks



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 00:29:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 45,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spooks/pseuds/Spooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A time travel story. What if Heero had died when he had self-destructed Wing? How would the future have turned out, and how would it be saved from the evils of Romefeller?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cadence of Time

**Author's Note:**

> Written in the early 2000s, not sure what year really. Posting old fics here since I let my site go down last year. Please forgive old mistakes if (when) you find them.

Time, a never-ending cadence.

What if there was nothing but The Now? The future not yet existing, the past merely an illusion, changeable and moldable to each individual's memories...

As history repeats the beats of war, peace, and revolution, time drums a cadence of its own.

What if one life, one event, could change the course of war?

What if in the future, the power to change an event of the past, to right one single wrong, came about?

What if it would cost the participants in this mission their very existence?

What if they only had one chance?

Is history worth the existence of the future? Is the future as stable as it seems?

We are all dancers in the cadence of time. Some dare to dance between the beats.

~ ~ ~ ~

 

 

 

 

### The Cadence of Time

**A Prelude of Numbers**

02 yawned heavily, stretching his arms over his head and bouncing lightly on his toes, his posture echoing sheer exhaustion in every sluggishly stiff movement of his lanky frame. His short ponytail had a few strands of hair wisping loose from its little tail, and he absently swept them out of his eyes. Sighing, he sat back down in his chair, took a couple of caffeine pills, and turned back to his calculations and schematics.

Beside him, 05 didn't bat an eye at his associate's restless movements, his focus and concentration honed completely into the task at hand. His shoulders were hunched over as he typed rapidly with his one remaining hand, a complicated program a thousand lines long scrolling on the screen in front of him. His eyes were red rimmed and slightly glazed, his entire being poured into his efforts. His short hair was plastered to his skull with a fine layer of sweat; the stump where his other hand used to be twitched absently in his lap like a dead thing.

Behind them was another table at which 04 and 03 sat, hovering over a complicated electronic board, soldering and connecting tiny wires and chips on a maze of computer components held together in strange shapes, no design inherent, only function. To their sides sat the main feature of the small room, a tall square opening framed with metal and wiring three feet thick in every direction. At the center of the open space flickered electricity, as though a field were generated between the steel and silicon. 

03 stopped briefly, one hand massaging a cramp out of the other. His longish bangs were swept back in a ponytail, but the bottom half of his hair was shorn short. Sighing softly, he spun his wheelchair back away from the table and over to a panel on the frame. Picking up the electronic stylus he had placed in his lap, he began working on it, infinite patience etched into his brow as he focused on his labor.

Over at the table, 04 moved a light to focus on a small maze of wires, his long fingers working delicately as they danced between the circuits and the silicon. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, colliding with the thin band of elastic that held a small patch over his ruined left eye. The tiny droplet of sweat sat for a moment, then cascaded downward on 04's scared face to drip onto his shirt. He rubbed at his forehead in a slight burst of annoyance, then returned to his acute concentration.

For hours the scene continued quietly in such a manner, the four men working silently in the cramped space. The bottle of caffeine pills made the circuit of the room several times, the only break in monotony coming when 03 had needed assistance in reaching a stubbornly high set of wires. Finally the four stopped, almost simultaneously, an eerie display of group-minded intensity. Heat wafted through the room from the nearby atmosphere filtration machinery, causing the air in the room to ripple slightly.

"How close are we?" 05 asked, rubbing his closed eyes lightly, one at a time. They burned from days of staring at the computer screen.

"The calculations are almost complete. I've checked and rechecked them eight times already. The last five have been flawless and precisely aligned," 02 stated, pulling the band from his shoulder length hair and ruffling it slightly, a pained expression on his face as he did so.

"Work on the portal is almost complete. All that lacks is the guidance system and its hardware," 04 said in a soft voice, his scars angry red in the low light.

"The guidance software is almost finished. I need to run a few more tests before I am satisfied with its results," 05 answered 04's unspoken question. He rubbed absentmindedly at the place where his wrist ended, one slender digit swirling over the puckered and ragged skin of the stump.

"And so our work is almost complete, and hopefully we will be successful," 02 muttered while rubbing the back of his sore neck.

"We have to be successful. We're all that is left of the resistance," 04 stated, anger and sadness warring between each other in his quiet tone.

The year was After Colony 205. 02, 03, 04, and 05 were indeed all that remained in resistance to the rule of the Romefeller Foundation and its guardian military rule through Oz. Trieze Khushrenada, the original leader of Oz, had been assassinated soon after the final battle on Earth and replaced with a puppet general, the result of Romefeller's dislike with his noble vision of war. The warship Libra now patrolled the colonies, threatening at any moment to destroy the millions of workers that slaved for the good of a few select people on Earth. Similarly, Mobile Dolls stood watch over the billions of farmers, factory workers, and other laborers of the planet that worked under the dictation of Romefeller's ideals. 

Everyone had enough food to eat and a place to live, but the price of their standard of living was their freedom. The existence of a secret police was rumored as of late, and from the state of corruption that was running rampant under the blood-soaked hands of Romefeller, the rumor was as good as proven before it was even uttered.

The latest step in total domination of its subjects, Romefeller was forcing all people to comply with their new religion, one that set the corporation as the symbolic representation of god. Millions had been imprisoned or executed already for their refusal to conform to the new religious laws. Every day hope died a little more, and every day seemed to stink of the extinction of humanity. The new religion only reinforced the death of the people's souls, the loss of one of their few remaining freedoms creating a tragically ironic effect. Suicide was up, as was violent crime. People were becoming savage or becoming domesticated, no medium stood between the two extremes.

In the year After Colony 195, the four men had been merely boys, rebels in the war for the colonies that had been short lived but intensely bloody. A mutation of Project Meteor, the four had at one time had a fifth, but he had died when he had self-destructed his Mobile Suit, his own weapon, the Gundam known as Wing. The other four had then been pilots of their own Gundams, but in a series of cataclysmic and desperate battles, they had lost them one by one, each returning, humbled, to the scientists that had sponsored their efforts until only 04 and the Manguanac Corp remained. They too were defeated in a final battle that had seemed to rock the very Earth itself, sand and blood mingling in a barren desert. 

The war had spiraled out of their control at that final defeat, and in a whirlwind Oz had taken control of the Earth and the Colonies alike, uniting the two in misery. Over even Oz stood Romefeller; the true leaders were the rich and the powerful financiers of the military might. The Barton family briefly had vied for control but had mysteriously disappeared soon after taking a seat of power, a mere child holding the throne of the world for only a day, both literally and figuratively.

Back in power, the Corporate Council had cracked down hard on all rebel activities, placing troops and re-education schools everywhere that had more than one house or living quarter gathered together, on the colonies and Earth alike. The doctors that the then-boys had been studying under had been taken in the later raids, leaving the four of them to flee into hiding together with their project. They currently subsisted in the underground air filtration facilities on the Mars colony. In the new area of colonization, they were posing as maintenance employees that looked after the important gaseous environment controls. A frightfully easy job after they made a few modifications, they spent most of their time finishing the project that had been started a year after Romefeller's success, a project started by the late Doctors.

Having worked and learned under the guidance of the men that had chosen them as pilots, each had made the transition from soldier to scientist. Disabled or traumatized beyond complete repair by the brutal fighting, they slaved on the only thing that could possibly save them from the bleak future, from the hopeless present they lived in, and from the terrifying past they would rather forget. They were working on creating a tear backwards through the fabric of time, one large enough so that a single person could travel through and fix the one thing they could think of that might change the world:

They were going to try to save their other pilot. 

The tide of the war had turned with his death, a result of his self-destruction. It had started a series of events that had turned the tide of the war in Romefeller's favor.

Years of research and hacking had provided extensive information on 01's death. Having witnessed the event from the vantage of their own Gundams, all knew that if 01 had not been speared by a particular shard of metal from the lining from the outside of his cockpit, then it would have completely possible for him to have survived. The plan was to send someone through the time stream, take their current calculations and speculations, and have the traveler apply them. 

A single modification to Wing's combustion pack would change the force of the blast and theoretically save the pilot. Also important to 01's survival, the traveler would have to pick 01 out of the wreckage before the past 03 could reach him with his Gundam, HeavyArms. This would be important because 03 had been arrested moments after he had picked 01's trapped body from the bits of metal, unable to fight because of the circumstances that had caused 01 to detonate in the first place, Une's threat to the Colonies. A small team had taken him by surprise, a random group of soldiers in suits that had happened to be close enough to overwhelm his escape route and sever his propulsion system. Enraged at the casualties caused by the Gundam pilots, hate took over reason in the soldiers' brutal snatching of 03 from his cockpit and their desecration of 01's body. These soldiers would also have to be delayed or terminated before they could reach the battlefield and interfere.

The Oz pilot, Zechs Marquise, had protested with the soldiers who were arresting 03 and trying to tear apart the dead 01, leaving his TallGeese in the process. Shocked and horrified that at the brutal treatment the angry soldiers were giving the living pilot and the deceased one's body, he had tried to stop the soldiers, resulting in his death, a supposed accident as one soldier's gun "misfired." 02 and 04, who had also been at the battle, had barely managed to escape capture themselves with the arrival of that new team of soldiers. If 03 hadn't picked up 01's body, then it was possible that 03 would have escaped, too. But he hadn't.

That arrest had been when 03 had lost the use of his legs. His spinal column had been severed when a soldier had savagely kicked him in the back with a steel-toed boot, breaking his back. This was an undesired event, and it was theorized that if 03 had not been trying to carry his dead associate away then he would not have been caught and thus, not have become crippled.

It was during the rescue mission to retrieve 03 and his Gundam that 02 had been captured. While 05 was obliterating the captured and dissected HeavyArms with heavy explosives in the MS hanger, 02 had been setting bombs elsewhere as part of a coordinated distraction. 04 had been simultaneously rescuing 03. Up until this point in time, the pilots had not been acting in a collaborative manner, only really working together if they happened to meet on the battlefield. Even then sometimes the issue was forced, usually by 02 or 04, who both were interested in working together with the others, their actions reflecting this. After 01's detonation, though, it became clear to all of them that to achieve their goals they would *need* to work together, especially since their numbers were down permanently by one-fifth. Their first joint mission was to rescue the now crippled 03. 

Unfortunately, it did not go smoothly. Although they took the enemy by surprise, one of the bombs that 02 had set was defective. He had put the explosives in a series, and that single blank spot in the line made a huge difference. Deciding to provide a distraction instead of just giving up, he led the enemy on a chase that took them out to his own Gundam. He had almost managed to close the cockpit door when a single bullet finally caught up with him, nicking his left lung. He had tried to self-destruct, but the device had been disabled, unbeknownst to 02. Before he could take any other action, a soldier had managed to reach and capture him. 

Leaving 02 behind was an accident. Communications had to be kept to a minimum during the mission. It wasn't until the others had reached the rendezvous point that they realized they would need to make another rescue attempt later. Their priority was 03 at the moment, though, his back broken and his unconscious state demanded immediate medical attention. 

During his imprisonment, 02 suffered greatly. Soldiers and guards that had suffered at Shinigami's hands now had a chance at revenge, and their brutal tortures left the boy a mere husk. He later refused to discuss the ordeal, but by the time 04 and 05 had been able to mount a rescue for him, it was clear that he had been broken. 

02 was a different person than the one who had been captured only a week hence. His long rope of hair was gone, the back of his head a bloody mess. Whoever had cut his hair had taken some scalp along with the braid. 02's clothes were torn and he wouldn't speak, just stare blankly. The loss of his Gundam was another blow. They had been forced by circumstance to destroy it because 02 was unable to pilot it away upon his rescue. The death of the machine almost seemed to be a small death of himself to 02; the pilot took it devastatingly hard. 

It took months to repair the mental damage even slightly, and when 05 had eventually confronted Khushrenada in a second duel, the Oz General had been horrified at the news of the torture 02 and 03 had received under his men. By that time events had spiraled out of the man's control, and he had been unaware that the pilots had received any mistreatment at all. At the time, the General had also been distracted by the loss of Zechs Marquise. Already angered by the death of his friend, the man had issued a complaint with his superiors at Romefeller after hearing about 02 and 03's treatment. It was this that marked the beginning of his downfall from grace in their eyes, the fall that eventually lead to his assassination. They had been fully aware of the extensive interrogation techniques.

By that time 03 had healed enough so that he was able to help with the war effort somewhat. The surgery that would be required to even attempt to repair his nerve damage and severed spinal column was out of reach at the time. Scrap and mechanical devices were easier to obtain than the high level expertise needed, and those were needed to upkeep 05 and 04's Gundams. Besides, there just wasn't time enough to allow for the therapy that would have been needed for full rehabilitation. It was easier to work with what they had, and so the acrobat became bound to a chair of metal and plastic.

After his second confrontation with Khushrenada, 05 had been quiet and reserved, weighing the man with his own moral scales. Struck in a quandary at one point mid-battle, it had been his thoughts that betrayed him. Distracted for a mere moment by the words of Khushrenada directing his troops through a tap into Oz's radio bandwidth, 05 had been hit hard from behind. Flung forward, his safety restraints had come loose, pounding him against the instrument panel of his cockpit. 

Small wires flared up in an electrical fire, and in an effort to smother the flames he had accidentally touched a live wire. Hand stuck to the flaming panel by the coursing electricity, by the time he had been able to tear his fingers away and retreat from the battle, his hand was nothing but charred bones and melted muscle. He had amputated it himself, refusing treatment, a severe punishment for his distraction in the heat of battle.

Later, his slight misgivings about the enemy and those quandaries that plagued him about their motivations were laid to rest, rectified when Romefeller took center stage and Khushrenada's assassination was traced back to them. Deciding that the enemy was indeed without a shred of honor, he had put away any remaining hesitation regarding them. On the side he stood, he fought for the colonies, throwing his soul into the fight, a passion for the combat turning him into a bitter but determined man. At the point when he had been forced to self-destruct his beloved Gundam in space, he had jettisoned away in his newly installed escape pod with the desire to avenge, and to live. Peace achieved in life or peace achieved in oblivion, the choice echoed in his mind as he escaped. He was glad he survived.

As for 04, he had not received his scars during battle, a fact that he privately felt ashamed of. Never captured, he had survived unscathed until the very last bout. He and his Manguanac allies verses the newly issued Mobile Dolls. The fight had been quick, the MD obliterating the Manguanacs quickly, leaving the lone remaining Gundam Sandrock standing alone in a desert, a fitful place for its self-destruction. The destruct mechanism had given the teenager enough time to get out of his Gundam and far enough away that he had been unharmed in the explosion. In a move that was either merciful or unspeakably cruel, the soldiers controlling the MD had left the blond pilot to die in the desert rather than sending a shuttle to have him captured. Fortunately, 02 had piloted a small plane out to the scene of Sandrock's bright end just a half-day later, and thus had picked 04 up to bring him home. 

About halfway back to their Earth base, the plane had to be abandoned in favor of covering their trail back to the hideout. It was then that 04 had been scarred, when the small truck they had stolen acted up, the alternator light flashing. Offering to take a look under the hood while 02 went to relieve himself, 04 had popped the hood of the truck with no caution. Deciding to check the water level on the battery after a precursory scan of the rest of the engine and workings, he had leaned forward, peering down at the battery. A spark from a shorted wire made the box explode, spurting acid in all directions and hitting half of 04's face, seeping into his left eye. Screaming in agony while his skin was deteriorated by the battery acid, he had stumbled around blindly until 02 had came running back. 

Unsure of what to do, it was a good flesh-eating minute later before 02 had been able to get their supply of water and flush 04 face. By then it was too late for his eye; the soft tissue was destroyed beyond repair. It was 04's misfortune that Romefeller had just issued a colony and planet-wide manhunt for the remaining escaped pilot, the leaders of the corporation unsatisfied with leaving 04 wandering in the desert. His face was plastered everywhere, and he was unable to seek professional medical assistance. The infections from the mixture of acid and slightly dirty water had the youth unconscious for days, almost killing him. For a long time he had wished it had. 

In that final desert battle, they had essentially lost their final shot at a victory. Their remaining option was survival; their intent to come back stronger than before. This was not without great personal cost. They were crippled or scarred or terribly disheartened, losing their identities much as the doctors had in their efforts to destroy tyranny. The cycle had begun again, only this time with the stakes much higher than ever before. 

They became numbers instead of letters.

Unable to remain soldiers, they had turned to science, taking up where their precursors had left off. Hectic and consumed, their obsession combined with their seclusion had made any sort of comforts or luxuries almost laughable. Coming out into the open for medical treatment would be their death sentences, so not only were they doomed to their past wounds, but the risk of common illness loomed over them like a plague. But health was not important at this point. It would cease to matter once they were finished with the frame.

Finally their project was almost complete, and they hoped that soon they would cease to exist in such a painful world. In their theories and calculations and all of their short, small scale tests, they had concluded that once a traveler left and went backwards through time, the world would undoubtedly change as a result of his arrival. It would create a ripple that could change nothing at all, or could potentially morph into a wave that consumed their world as they knew it. Going forward would not create such a problem, and they had already achieved that back before the Doctors had been captured and executed. By observing their own experiments in the time field of the future, they knew that the slightest things could make the biggest difference. After retrieving any technology that would be useful in their mission to the past, they had started to work on the method of going back.

But going backwards would be a one-time deal. Once the traveler left, the future he had known would cease to be, thus eliminating the pathway he had taken in the first place. A paradox would cause a change in time, and after a short period the traveler himself would also cease to exist, having come from a future that had never happened because he had arrived in the present. Coming right down to it, the traveler would vanish, the future and his time never existing for him to leave from. 

Fortunately this period could be calculated, so the traveler would have some clue of when he would cease to exist. The estimated survival time for the journey to save 01 would be two days for each year, giving the traveler almost three weeks to prepare Wing properly and then save 01 after the explosion. All had concurred that 01 could not have been convinced to disobey his orders and decline the mission, nor could he be convinced not to self-destruct. Removing the self-destruct package itself would not work either, because Oz could not be allowed to get their hands on the design of Wing. With it, they would be even *more* brutal and unstoppable. Of that the young scientists had no doubt.

The traveler would also take a mind altering device taken from the future that would allow him to imprint or erase certain memories, allowing for his temporary presence not to seem too suspicious. Stealing from the future was easy, because it did not influence their existence, just the existence of those that lived in that future. 02 had been the one that had made the journey and picked up the specified object, returning almost a split second after he had left.

Basically it would be the mission of the traveler's life to complete all the required specifications, but it was the only thing they could think off to do. Assassinating the leaders of Romefeller in their cribs as babies would be bloody and brutal, besides which, it might not work. Others, even more ambitious men and women could still rise to power, the corporation itself outdating its oldest leaders by at least fifty years. The paradoxes that required traveling back before their own life span were too boggling to conceive, the option of eradicating the corporation earlier made null. 

The key was 01, of that they were sure. 

Besides, enough humanity remained in them that they realized that saving a life could make the entire difference, while destroying a life might just make matters worse.

As the eve of their successful completion of the frame loomed closer and closer, their trepidation rose steadily. They had yet to find a suitable traveler, the most important part of their plan that ached openly for potential failure. Theirs was first endeavor in such a field; they only had the other frame to work upon, changing and grafting together a hodge-podge of wires and ideas and hope upon the shoulders of the giants that had came before them. After all, they only had one chance. Their traveler had to understand the consequences and be able to undertake the mission. Competence was a must. Their very existences and the state of the world depended on it.

After a short discussion their progress, the wrapped up their conversation. Each needed at least 12 hours of rest before they could start working again at a level of suitable efficiency. 03 for once allowed his chair to be pushed, 04 gladly guiding the other along to their tiny shared room. 05 and 02 retreated into the adjacent room, each collapsing on cots that weren't big enough and reeked of sweat, nightmares, and pain. Soon they were all asleep. 

They were dead to the world.

~ ~ ~ ~

### The Cadence of Time: Movement 1

**Countermelody**

After escaping for a few hours into the blank oblivion of exhausted sleep, the four awoke, alerted and jolted into full awareness by a soft knock at the main entrance to their living quarters. 

Instantly they fell into a preplanned strategic pattern. 03 wheeled himself forward, taking point position to answer the door. 04 walked behind him, hiding a gun between 03 and the back support of the wheelchair; the cold metal dug painfully into the man's back but the blank expression on his face betrayed no discomfort. 02 took a position out of sight in their work room, hastily covering the frame and all of their tools just in case. 05 stood in full view of the door, his stump of a hand held in a manner that made the injury glaringly obvious. The maimed of the group carefully positioned themselves to all but flaunt their old injuries. Their intention was to draw attention from their recognizable facial features with the flagrant display of their handicaps. Experience had taught them that people rarely studied the features of those of whom they had to avoid staring at in disgusted awe.

In less than sixty seconds, 03 was carefully opening the door, wheeling his chair backwards even as he leaned forward to grasp the door handle, the gun at his back sliding downwards to settle in a more concealed position. As the metal portal swung open the tension in the room mounted to a fevered pitch, almost tangible in its intensity. When the person on the other side was fully visible, the three men in the room breathed a collective sigh of relief. 

It was just the son of one of the terra farmers, Benadas, standing on the other side of the doorway. He held bags of supplies nervously in his hands, swinging them in his clenched hands. He twisted his wrists as he waited on them to let him in, banging the bags lightly against his thin legs.

"Come in," 04 invited, pulling the gun from behind 03 and tucking it away almost before Benadas could step inside. A flash of brown eyes was all that betrayed his acknowledgement of the weapon.

"I have this week's rations from the bosses'," the teenager chirped, continuing to pretend that he hadn't noticed the flicker of cold metal in the low light. "How've you guys been holding up down here? I don't see how you can stand it, all cooped up in the middle of this hot little pit of machinery all the damn time."

05 shrugged. "You get used to it."

"I suppose you can get used to **anything** if given enough motivation," Benadas responded, a dark note entering his voice.

"Have you been enjoying your schoolwork lately?" 03 asked. The boy had been having some trouble with his teachers, the result of a bit of natural rebellion combined with his high intelligence. 

"Oh yes, things have gotten a lot better after I talked with you about them," Benadas responded, setting the bags down and raking a hand through his short dark hair. "Oh! And guess what? My mom's going to have a baby! Our release form is still pending, but we think they're going to let her keep it. We've been good."

"That's great," 04 replied, his gentle smile contrasting sharply with the wrinkled red scars that creased his face. Of all the things Romefeller controlled, childbirth was one of the most controversial subjects. 

Suddenly 02 stepped into the room, a parody of cheerfulness featured on the stage of his countenance. "Hey, Benadas. Can I ask you something?"

05 quickly stepped forward and grabbed the other man's arm at the elbow. Something was wrong. Leaning forward and hissing into 02's ear, 05's voice was harsh and low, a hiss. "What are you doing?"

02 just shook his arm free, his eyes narrowing, the smile faltering from its allocated space. It was an eerie contrast with the continually carefree tone of voice. "Do you like your life?"

Frowning, Benadas just stood there, shock still and instantly wary. "What do you mean?"

"Do you enjoy your life as it is?" 02 repeated. Fear and anticipation thickened throughout the room, lying heavily over each of them, stifling and smothering in its severity. "What if you could change things?"

"That depends. Are you trying to test me?" The teenager responded, panic suddenly gripping his expression. "Are you with the re-education people? If so, I don't enjoy being toyed with. I'm a loyal subject! I promise! I swear it!" The teenager's voice was shaking, and his face betrayed his abject terror.

"We're not with **them** ," 02 spat out, his voice changing as he uttered the phrase, the last word leaving his mouth in a voice twisted by intense loathing. The emotion in that last word spoke volumes, all but flagging him as a confirmed dissident.

"Then no, I'm not happy," the boy whispered as he stared up at 02. Naked disbelief was evident on his face at the man's show of emotion. "Please don't tell anyone."

"No problem. I was just wondering," 02 responded, his voice suddenly bright and cheerful. The difference in tone and attitude from his previous words was both startling and disturbing.

"Maxwell, are you feeling okay? Have you been taking your pills?" 04 asked, his voice full of worry as he stepped towards his associate. He reverted to using a name because of the presence of an outsider. As soon as 04's face was out of the boy's line of vision, his expression went from concerned to nearly hateful in its sharp anger.

"No," 02 muttered, sensing that he had said far too much. Now he had to humble himself, play the part of the foolish incompetent so as not to give them away. It was a part he played well.

"I'm sorry about that, Benadas, he's not usually like that," 03 toned softly to the stunned boy. "I'll show you out. Feel free to come and visit us any time."

As soon as the confused teenager had been ushered out, 02 and 04 stopped their charade. Instantly three sets of eyes riveted on 02. Cringing slightly, he stepped back, colliding with the doorframe that lead to the workroom.

"Look, I was just thinking..." he started, his face twisting in slight fear at the rage burning in his associates' eyes. A moment later he straightened up and glared right back at them, all but daring the other scientists to question his actions.

"What were you thinking? Come on! I want to know why you would put us at risk like that when we're so close to success!" 05's voice was livid. "We'll be finished tomorrow, why endanger us so late in the game?"

"We still need a traveler, someone to go back," 02 replied quietly, his eyes shifting up meet his colleagues', one by one. "I was thinking he would be suitable option."

"Well then, why didn't you wait to consult us first? You've put us all in jeopardy because of your sudden whim," 03 stated, his voice a calming influence despite his reprimanding words.

02 sighed, then shrugged, his thin shoulders moving within his loose shirt. He closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the scars at the base of his skull. "I know. I apologize. You all know how I get sometimes. I was just struck by the idea." He lifted his bowed head, a haunted expression marking his face and making him seem much older than his 25 years. He was ancient. "Forgive me?"

"Of course," 05 rolled his eyes. "And I actually agree with your judgment on this, the boy could be a suitable subject."

"Yes, but will he agree to the consequences?" 04 asked softly, his voice hardening with resolve as he continued. "I do not think we should tell him."

"But he must be told that he would have a deadline!" 02 protested. 

"Yes, but he won't have to know what that deadline will mean," 04 responded, his voice calm. "It is the only way. Do you really think he'd agree otherwise?"

"No," 02 replied after a moment. "It is necessary, but it isn't right."

"None of this is," 03 added.

Outside the closed steel door, Benadas stood. His dark eyes were almost impossibly wide as he pressed his ear against the warm surface, hearing every word spoken in the room. A moment later, he pulled away and ran as fast as he could, getting as far away from the strange men as quickly as possible. 

He was afraid. He didn't know what to do.

~ ~ ~ ~

A few days later the weekly news feed from the Earth and colonies was shipped in for broadcast. Reception was bad on this part of Mars and most of the mining and farming equipment caused problems with normal communication with the nearest space colonies, never mind the Earth. Therefore the inhabitants of their little Mars colony only received news once a week. As was their ritual, the four numbered men gathered around their small vid-set to watch the decline of society on the tiny screen.

As always, the most prominent reports were on the re-education programs and their multiple successes. Among other things, an update on the internment systems was also included in the compilation newscast. The latest trend in the prevention of undesirable continued rebel activity was sterilization of all rebels and the abortion of any already forming infants within a female dissident's womb. 

A calculated genocide, the smiling news anchor reported that amazing success had been achieved with this new "deterrent." Of course, they couldn't outright terminate any of the undesirables, public execution was too quick an escape, too easy. Romefeller felt that their subjects should be converted at any cost, even if it took years in painful rehabilitation. Of course, sometimes rehabilitation was fatal. Some losses were to be expected.

After the news program ended, 05 walked over to the vid-set and turned it off. His face was blank, but as he rotated the small dial to the off position, his fingers shook minutely. Snatching his hand back at the sight, he absently started tracing the scars on the stump of his other wrist. Silently he sat back down with the others.

"It's getting worse," 02 finally spoke, his voice full of loathing. "Killing babies. They won't execute adults, but they slaughter children before they're even born."

"Soon it won't be like that," 03 said after another quiet spell.

"Yes, the frame is finally complete," 04 added, an undecipherable light shining in his good eye, making it gleam strangely in the low light. His eye patch reflected nothing, a blank spot on his face.

"And we'll be finished as soon as we can get a traveler," 02 added. "I almost don't want to be done with this, I don't really want to die. You realize that if we succeed, we're going to probably be the cause of hundreds of thousands, millions even, not coming into existence? I know that they might be better off dead than living like this, but still... It's a heavy responsibility. And what if it doesn't work?"

05 ran his hand through his short black hair. "If it doesn't work, then we just have to find another way, and what you're worrying about wouldn't matter. But still, if only we could fight now, for ourselves..."

"But we can't. Even with the most powerful technology we could have stolen from the future, you know we'd need more than the four of us to wield it," 03 said softly, his eyes flickering down for the barest moment as he glanced at his useless, atrophied legs. "The cost of rebelling is too high for many, and those few that would fight would be almost impossible to find."

"This is the only way," 04 quietly put in, pausing for a moment, shaking his head slightly at his worrisome thoughts. "I'm nervous."

"This close to success, that is to be expected," 02 broke back into the conversation. "The build up and work has taken years, it will take a split second for the world to change for us. It's exciting. It's also terrifying. I wonder if we'll be able to feel it happen..."

A knock at the door startled the four. Moving in unison, they took up their assigned positions. Within moments 03 was answering the door. 

"Benadas, come in," 03 actually sounded surprised. "How long have you been standing outside?"

04's hand ghosted down to rest on the handle of the gun once again hidden between 03's back and the chair. If it was necessary, he wouldn't hesitate to kill the boy.

"Oh, just a second or two," the youth said, a smile on his face as he stepped through the doorway. "I wanted to come and talk."

"Talk?" 04 asked acidly, his hand now gripping the gun tightly, shifting it up even as 03 leaned forward, both shutting the door and freeing the weapon a bit more.

"Yeah. You said I could come and visit," Benadas responded, brown eyes wide. "Did you guys see the news?" Fear edged the boy's voice as he said the last sentence. Obviously he had a reason for coming to see them, and it had to do with the recent program.

"Yes, we did," 02 nodded as he stepped through the other doorway. Again, he had been covering the frame and telltale signs of unusual activity.

"What did you think? About the sterilization of the dissidents?" Benadas's voice was shaking now. He was obviously afraid to even ask such questions. The consequences for doubting the corporation were steep and painful; re-education was never pleasant.

"It is horrible," 03 stated plainly.

Benadas shut his eyes for a moment, opening them to look at each of the older men in turn. "Thank you. I...I agree."

"Would you like to do something about it?" 04 asked, stepping forward.

"Yes," the boy answered, his voice full of resolve. His brown eyes flickered with emotion.

"Then follow me," 02 spoke up, waving the boy forward. Nervously, Benadas stepped up to the scientist.

"How would you like to change the world? It is within your grasp to do so. You could be a...you could be...could be...be a hero," 02 said, his voice thick with emotion that hadn't surfaced in years. Clearing his throat, he placed a hand on the boy's back, leading him to the covered frame. In one quick motion he unveiled it.

"Wow..." Benadas gazed at the machine, his eyes coming to rest on the flickering translucent energy in the center of the silicon doorway. "Um...What is it?"

"A gate through time," 05 answered from the doorway. The other three scientists had followed them into the room but were keeping their distance. The shock to their traveler's system would be lessened if he were not overwhelmed by their presence. Better to leave 02 to do most of the explaining. That way the boy could look his instructor in the eye. Rarely did anyone look at the other three anymore, their scars and handicaps always a cause for uneasiness. Invisibility was earned with their most noticeable features. 

"How?" Benadas asked, his voice soft as he ran an index finger over the edge of the frame, touching the cool metal in an almost reverent manner.

"That's not important. It took a long time, and it was very difficult. The important thing is that this is a ticket to the past. We have a mission for someone, and we want that someone to be you. If you change the past, you change the future, and you'll be free from the tyranny of Romefeller," 02 spoke, weaving a spell with his soft words. Benadas looked fascinated, gazing up into the chiseled face of the scientist. 

"Free?" The youth whispered, his voice trembling on the verge of tears. Thousands of emotions fought each other for control of his face before he managed to get control of himself. "I can't believe it's possible. I don't remember being free, not ever. Why are you asking me, of all people, to do this?"

"Just look at us," 04 responded slightly bitter as he gestured to himself and the two scientists on either side of him. "We are unable."

"I'm just not strong enough anymore," 02 answered as the youth's gaze turned to him, his voice defeated. 

"Besides, we already had our chances when we were your age. We failed. Now we're giving you your own chance to do what we could not," 05 spoke up quietly.

"Will you save the world for us?" 02 asked after a short silence.

The silence was thick in the room, 02's question hanging in the air like a living echo. The soft crackling of energy in the center of the frame only added to the explosive atmosphere, and time seemed to slow as four men stared at the teenager before them. The air rippled with heat. The world was focused completely on one small boy, and the child knew it. Indecision and doubt was clear on the youth's face, but he took a deep breath and closed his eyes after only a moment. Then he spoke calmly, a newfound maturity coloring his statement. 

"Yes," Benadas answered, the word floating from his mouth and through the air. The affirmation hit the ears of the tired men like a cooling balm, washing over them and restoring a tiny bit of their hope with the sound of the three letters strung together. Everything was going work out.

"Can you come back tomorrow? We need to proceed with this as soon as possible," 02 finally was able to say, his voice breathless with excitement.

Benadas nodded. "You want me to go that quickly?"

"You'll only be gone a split second in our time," 02 said gently, still trying to convince the boy.

"Okay, I'll be back tomorrow, after lunch," Benadas responded, nodding again. "Thank you for this chance."

As the door closed behind the boy, they all breathed deeply, calming themselves. That had gone almost too well. They would cease to exist in less than twenty-four hours, but the only emotion that surfaced was extreme relief. 

They were so tired. Soon it would all be over. Soon it would all be done...all over again. 

This was it. It had to be.

~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning the scientists rose early, getting everything together that their traveler would need for his journey. Long dead emotions surfaced and were quietly forced back down as they moved around each other, each completing their own task in a way that coordinated with the actions of the others so closely that it almost appeared to be part of an intricate dance. Efficiency and group awareness was evident, the closeness that could only be achieved by spending years working with each other. Hours before Benadas was to arrive for his briefing and his jaunt through time, they were finished with their preparations. Checking and rechecking done, all they had left to do was wait.

Gathering together in the tiny living room, they were silent as they listened to the sounds the air filtration machinery made, the clicks and wheezes so loud that they could be heard through the walls. Lately it seemed incredibly futile to bother with their menial job. In a few short hours they would not exist, and neither would those particular machines. What was the point? 

So they sat. They waited. An hour passed.

"Something about this feels wrong," 04 suddenly said, his voice breaking the intense hush that had flooded their senses.

"You're nervous," 05 spoke, not judging his associate's mood, just observing. 

"No, something else," 04 argued. "I just can't put my finger on it. Something is wrong here."

02 stood up and strode into the next room. Soft rustling could be heard as he moved aside the cover that hid the frame. "Everything appears to be in working order."

A ghost of a smile flickered across 03's face, gone almost before it could be observed. "You used to get weird feelings all the time, remember?"

04 looked sharply at the crippled man. "The past is now dead to me. Please don't mention it in the few hours I have left. We are changing all that."

"I'm sorry," 03 said softly. "I did not mean to upset you."

"I know. I must be feeling...guilty," 04 replied, his eye softening slightly. "I forgot what that felt like. I haven't felt at all in a long time."

02 snorted. "Benadas cannot know the reason for his deadline. You were right, we don't have a choice. Emotions are only obstacles in the mission. Left alone, we have no choice but to surrender ourselves to our goals, our resistance. In doing so we will save everyone."

"But we have lost ourselves," 05 concluded. He cradled his stump to his chest.

"So be it," 02 spoke, his voice cold like hardened ice on a steel blade. Of all the scientists, he was the most jaded, the most bitter. Whatever had happened to him in that Oz compound had changed him completely. His conniving stealth and razor sharp wit had only strengthened, but his psyche had never returned.

While 04 had also changed, he knew that every bit of it had come from his own remorse and self-loathing after he had been scarred. Shame and guilt threatened to overwhelm him, so he had let himself be twisted rather than lose his mind. 05 had found a purpose, but lost himself...and he knew it. 03 had no where left to turn, and his entire upbringing had prepared him enough that although he was indeed sorrowful, he was neither bitter nor twisted. The most calm and most balanced out of all of them, if not for 03 they would have lost their cause in their own bitterness long ago. But as it was, nothing could pull 02 from the line of extreme anger and cynicism that he toed daily. Almost insane in his focus on the project, the mission, he had become a machine.

Conversation had ground to a halt, so they continued to sit in their own respective worlds, enjoying their last moments of existence with private introspection. Skipping lunch, deeming it unnecessary by unspoken agreement, there was no movement or noise until a tentative knock sounded at their door, jolting them from their private reveries.

Moving once again in their coordinated pattern, they answered the door. Benadas hurried in, a small pack slung over his shoulder, his face a mask of many emotions tumbling together and fighting for dominance. 

"Hello. What am I going to do?" The youth asked, getting straight to the point as they lead him into the room that housed the frame. He sat his pack down with the utmost care.

"This is a brain modifier, meant to mold memories to suit your needs. You will need to use it to erase the memory of your arrival and presence for everyone you meet in more than passing. You'll press this button, and a small piercing whistle will sound and basically do all the work for you. It was, er, is used in the future to repair mental damage done by traumatic experiences. Touch here with the pad of your thumb," 02 instructed, holding the small device out for Benadas to hold.

The boy took the device and carefully placed his thumb on it as instructed, yelping when it extracted a tiny slice of tissue when he touched it. "What was that for?"

"So that your own memories won't be erased. It is a specialized machine and can only be operated by you. There's a way to make it so other people will not be affected, but you won't need to know that. It could damage time itself if anyone remembers you being there," 02 said.

From there 02 went on to explain exactly where, when, and what Benadas would need to do in order to assure the survival of 01. By this point, everything about the plan was ingrained a thousand times over into the synapses of his brain. After a certain point, though, it would be impossible to make any concrete plans because hopefully time would have changed enough so that their information would no longer hold as the truth. 

Finally the briefing was over, and Benadas stood in the center of the room, looking scared to death. He held his supplies and condensed information, holding a roll of maps tightly in one hand. For a moment he stared at the prepared energy in the frame as it flickered coolly only a few feet away, then bowed his head. A single tear escaped from one closed eye, trickling a wet path down his face.

"What's wrong?" 03 asked as he wheeling himself forward to the boy's side.

"I--" Benadas started. He gazed at them all in turn, then at the frame. He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked at the small bag he had brought in and set down so carefully.

"No," 05 whispered, eyes growing wide with dawning horror as he spoke for the group. 

"Yes," Benadas responded. His voice a strangled sob. "My mother--pregnant--I...I'm sorry!"

A second later the door to their living quarters literally flew in, the flimsy metal colliding noisily with the opposite wall in the next room. Good eye wide, 04 slammed the door to the small workroom they were in, only to be shoved back when it was forced open again. Men dressed in black stood in the doorway, crowding every available open space of the doorframe with the muzzles of a high-powered semiautomatic assault rifles.

Benadas, by this time, had backed into a corner, sinking to the floor and drawing his knees up to his chest. In the sudden stillness that had gripped the room after it had been invaded, 05 reached over and opened the bag the teenager had brought in. He had a little difficulty with the buckle. Finally pulling a remote listening device out of the small pouch, he just turned and looked briefly at Benadas, his eyes speaking for him. Loathing, anger, and understanding all mixed together in that one molten gaze. He set the device down beside the bag, shaking his head. It wasn't the boy's fault. Not really.

"Put your hands up and step away from that machine!" The leader of the soldiers barked as he shook his rifle for emphasis, finger moving from the trigger guard to rest on the trigger itself in one well-trained motion.

Slowly, ever so slowly, they raised their arms, moving in unison. The effect was almost as unnerving as the glances that were being tossed around between the four scientists as they communicated without speaking. 

After bare seconds of this silent exchange, they exploded into action.

02 dived in the direction of the charts and schematics Benadas had dropped, scooping them up and ducking under the table, scuttling along close to the floor. Even as 02 was leaping, 03 had wheeled forward, ramming straight into the outstretched gun barrels. 05 and 04 similarly moved, essentially making themselves a combined human shield to provide 02 with some measure of cover.

The commander of the troops, the one that had spoken before, saw what they were attempting. "Stop him! He can't go through there or we're all dead! Fire!"

Even as the last word was tearing its way from his throat, his men were bringing their rifles to their shoulders and firing. Bullets torn savagely into the three in front, blood splattered in all directions as the unforgiving slugs ripped into their flesh and literally rended them apart. Death was almost instantaneous, but it wasn't quick enough to stop startled little cries of pain escaping from the lips of the dying. 

They did not scream. 

Benadas was sobbing and howling, covered head to toe in the splattered blood of the men. He hugged himself and wished he had never been born. The boy would have to be reprimanded for his faltering in resolve. The commander sneered in disgust even as he pumped a few more rounds into the crippled man, watching the scientist's legs dance for a moment from the impact of the hot bullets. The barrage continued for a moment, the fronts of the faltering bodies becoming solid masses of red.

A moment later it was over, the three dead men falling onto each other limply like slabs of bloody meat. It had taken less than ten seconds of firing to clear the obstacle, but it had been too long for the soldiers. It had been enough for the scientists.

02 was gone.

~ ~ ~ ~

### The Cadence of Time: Movement 2

**A Change in Time Signature**

02 landed painfully on a patch of rocky soil, his full weight skidding on his left shoulder before his momentum ran out. He had dived headfirst into the crackling portal of energy, and thus was completely unprepared for the trip and its consequent electrical jolt. The hastily grabbed charts lay all around him, scattered and torn and dirtied after his plunge through time. Ignoring the sharp stabs of agony radiated from his shoulder, 02 hopped to his feet and fell into a fighting stance. Unsure of his surroundings and without weaponry, the scientist was not even sure if he was where he was supposed to be.

After a minute of total silence, he deemed the patch of trees around him as enemy free; 02 broke his out of his stance. Shunting the pain in his shoulder away from his conscious attention, he also tried to forget the vivid mental picture of 03, 04, and 05 being gunned down. Unable to get the bloody image out of his mind, 02 dropped down to his knees, his head bowed. Longish strands of hair brushed his shoulders and caressed his face, and as he gathered up the fallen papers, it was almost a struggle to remain emotionless. 

He was now the last. He had to succeed. There would be no time for respite, no time for guilt, and no time for grief. Time was too fickle a thing for him to waste in mourning for those who had, in reality, died so long ago.

Still shaken from the escape and the trip back through ten years of hell, 02 was not in good shape. Physically he was still in top notch form, but traveling through the time stream always made him feel as though he had been taken apart and put together again molecule by single molecule. Every muscle, every tendon, every nerve seemed to ache with an electric pain that tingled through his system.

Gathering his charts and papers, 02 pushed back all of his perceived weaknesses and focused on the now. With stealth that can only come from years of living in hiding, 02 made his way out of the thicket of trees and into the city. Looking around cautiously, he was relieved to note that it was very early morning, as they had projected. The coordinates had been accurate. Early morning had been the planned arrival time because only homeless and inebriated people were wandering the streets at such an hour. Moving quickly, 02 dragged one wandering man into a dark alley, knocking him unconscious with a clean chop to the neck. Stealing the man's shirt, 02 shed his own blood-splattered top. Folding the discarded shirt into a tight ball, he carried it with him, bloodstains hidden on the inside of the roll. 

Now deeming his appearance suitable, 02 went to the small hotel that should be at the planned coordinates. Research had shown that this hotel was grateful to have any customers for more than an hour at a time, and therefore no questions would be asked about payment being made with cash. Renting a room, 02 began the process of regrouping and planning. The details were pounded into his mind, imprinted with years of planning, but now those plans were resting in his shaky hands. He had to prepare himself for the ordeal ahead. There were many reasons why he had not wanted this mission, why they had needed a traveler. Now he was being forced to face his past. Almost ten years ago, only a week away, Duo Maxwell had died, and 02 had been forced to take control. The memories that would surface by this mission were unpleasant, and the prospect of facing them was daunting.

By good fortune that almost had seemed to point towards an optimistic outcome of the mission, the group of back line soldiers that would be the captors of 03 were on route to their permanent base of operations. They would be here at this area for only three more days. The soldiers were headed to a small base that was located near where the Gundams would ambush the Taurus transports, and it was those soldiers that had unexpectedly shown up at the battle after Une had threatened the colonies. Their location near the school that 01 was staying at only made the plan that much more efficient to execute. 

He'd deal with the soldiers first, though; he craved their painful deaths. There was good reason he had not been the appointed traveler. He tended to get carried away when violence was involved.

02 had to stop a look of hatred that was trying to fight its way onto his face. It was those soldiers that had crippled 03 and desecrated 01's remains. It was those soldiers who had...he killed that thought process before it could progress down a detrimental path. He needed to hone his anger, filter it into the mission, not let any other weaker emotions get in his way. Motivation was all that those feelings were good for at this point. Excess would be useless. Even after all those years, he still had trouble with control.

At the moment he could do nothing but wait. He knew where and when he would be able to acquire the necessary weapons and tools for the infiltration of the soldiers' temporary base. As soon as dawn broke he would be out and preparing, drawing funds from accounts that G had set up so long ago for the Duo Maxwell of the past. If 02 saw the irony of stealing from his past self, he didn't show it. Grimly the man stared up at the ceiling. He'd have to awaken in a few hours. Closing his eyes, he forced himself into a dreamless sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~

Eyes snapping open at precisely 7 a.m. as he had decided the night before, 02 sat up. Having laid the rest of the night completely motionless on top of the old hotel comforter, it did not take much to make the room look as though it was never occupied, just in case the hotel's maid service ignored the do not disturb sign. Fully alert and ready to go acquire his necessary tools, 02 only paused as he left the room to use the restroom facilities. 

The day passed in a calculated blur. Achieving his objectives was almost laughably easy. His cold stare and ancient eyes made people want to do as he asked just so they could get away from him. Ten years of age also made a monumental difference when dealing with shady arms dealers. With his weapons and explosives gathered, 02 only regretted the loss of the memory modification device. It was unfortunate, but people were going to remember him. It could be damaging to the mission, but 02 did not know how he was going to be able to rectify the situation. Deciding to deal with those consequences later, he could only hope that he did not harm the fabric of time. He was there to help, not to hinder. At the same time, however, the temptation for vengeance was almost too great to be ignored. Perhaps if he was creative in his mission, then he could satisfy both his desire for blood and his need to fulfill the mission parameters. And so he made a new plan, a modified version of their original.

That night he was ready, his new lock picks, explosives, knives, and various guns all inspected and prepared. Once he reached the base, 02 was inside the security radius of the in the blink of an eye. Stealth had always been his ally, and now remorseless cunning would allow him a small measure of revenge. Only minimal guards were watching over the unit as they slumbered; the sentries were only going through the motions. They thought that the chances of being attacked were next to nil, especially with such a low class unit at such an unimportant juncture. Normally they would have been right. In 02's past, the soldiers had been safe. But this time was different. They had to be terminated.

It was at this point that 02 deviated from the original plan and to his new one. Their traveler was supposed to destroy the soldier's mobile suits, but the memories of what these particular soldiers had done followed every movement 02 made. It was more rewarding in his mind that the soldiers themselves to be destroyed. It would not make up for 02's past, 03's mutilation, and 01's terribly shameful desecration. For payment of the soldiers' sins, 02 did not think their newly planned fate was nearly enough. But it would do. Oh, yes, it would do.

Efficiently killing the men standing guard with a quick succession of well-aimed, silenced shots, 02 crept into the inner workings of the temporary bunker. He had to destroy any surveillance gathered that could possibly betray his existence. Nothing could remain of him in this time frame; he was an intruder. Even though in the remaining actions of the plan would undoubtedly destroy all that evidence, he wanted to be certain. The scientist was determined to be perfect.

Following the map he had memorized years ago while researching every angle of the mission, 02 quickly found his way into the control room. Easily killing the man watching the many grainy monitors, 02 wondered for a moment why the soldier had not known he was coming. Pushing the body out of the rolling office chair and onto the hard floor, 02 set to work on the computer bank in front of him, setting up a lockdown of the premises. 

Pleased with the unexpected control at his command, he modified his plan of revenge into a well-calculated and malicious attack. In minutes he had it set up so that a single keystroke would set off a timer, and when the countdown was over the covers on the windows would slam shut and the doors would be sealed. A defensive measure would be the deaths of the soldiers. How ironic. 

02 cut off the water main to the building by hacking into the environmental controls. He was pleased that Oz had all this equipment at his fingertips, he had not expected it to be so easy to access those systems. Most of his research had been on how to destroy the MS lined up only a short distance away. 

Satisfied with his modified plan and its preparations, he focused his attention on the surveillance equipment, the initial reason he had come to the control room in the first place. Swiveling his chair, the scientist manipulated the tapes to display the exact time that he had come onto the premises. He divided his concentration into separate consciousnesses unto themselves and watched the screens, ready to pick out which tapes needed to be immediately destroyed. 

On the many screens, the few guards dropped to the ground, one by one. Leaning forward, 02, ran back a particular monitor, focusing completely on that guard. The man fell, but no bullet hole appeared in the center of his forehead. He seemed to merely pass out. Frustrated, 02 ran back each recording of every single guard, and every man just seemed to collapse. 02 was confused, then rationalized that it must be one of the strange effects made by time, working to fix the aberration he had caused. It would be something to worry more about later; at the moment he had to terminate those soldiers. 

Leaving the control room, 02 placed firebombs throughout the bunker, directing them so that the walls would burn only after the contents of the rooms had been destroyed by a fiery inferno sparked by the sequence of small scale napalm explosions. Satisfied, 02 secured his exit route, returned to the control room, and set the timers off. The lockdown would be in place only five seconds before the bombs went off. 

02 hoped the soldiers would be awake. They would suffer more.

Fleeing, 02 felt no guilt about the brutal fate he had set in motion for those soldiers. Out of the compound in minutes, he turned around just in time to see the shutters slam over the windows and the doors bolt in place. He smiled as the sound of raging fire and terrified screams reached his ears. Without water, the sprinkler system could not put out the flames, and there was no way out. 

02 smiled for the first time in years as he basked in the glow of sweet revenge, imagining the monsters inside clawing and tearing at each other in a frantic dance to get away from the searing flames. Hell. For a moment longer he stood, listening to the dying men inside the bunker, then was gone in an instant. 

He had to modify Wing's explosive package, and to do that, he had to get to the Gundam. Familiar plans and timetables scrolled in his mind. He would have carry out that task before 01 left to intercept the transport, but after the mission to destroy the air base. If he did so before then, 01 might catch the modification during that mission, and it was to take place the following night. Timing was of the utmost importance; 02 would have to be close in order to strike at the appropriate juncture.

~ ~ ~ ~

The next day 02 found himself standing a few blocks away from the school 01 and his younger self were attending for their cover. With deceptively casual eyes he watched the two young boys as they wandered away from the rest of their gym class. Remembering the exchange from so long ago, 02 almost shuddered at the flippant words being passed between the boys only a few hundred feet away.

'I stood out, he was right,' 02 thought. 'I was so happy then, despite being caught in the midst of war. This was the last respite before my world fell apart.'

A terrible pang lanced through 02 at the thought of what had happened later. Little 02 and little 01 would become very close very quickly in only a matter of hours. A thinly veiled contest had been waged, and 02 vividly remembered the gleam in 01's eyes from so long ago. Abruptly 02 frowned, cutting the rising nostalgia and memories out of his mind. He had to focus. 

Turning sharply on his heel just as that little Dorlain girl arrived, 02 walked away. 

Tonight, after 01's mission, he would alter the explosive package. He needed to get some rest before then. After making those modifications, he would have to travel to where 01 was going to detonate in a few days, via an unsuspecting young 03\. His mission would pick up again at the battlefield.

A few hours passed while 02 made preparations for the mission that night, setting out all the weaponry and electronic devices he would need. He took a shower and combed through his shoulder length hair, feeling a faint twinge of loss that hadn't surfaced in years, sparked by seeing his naïve self's long swinging braid. Putting the thoughts of that distant past out of his mind, he picked up a pair of binoculars and a gun, then went for a stroll. Sleeping would not be conducive to his current mood.

How he came to be spying on his past self's dorm room minutes later was beyond 02's rational comprehension. The scientist reasoned that perhaps he still held a sick sort of fascination with the events that had so changed his young life, events that had spiraled out of control in part because of what was about to happen in that small room. Raising the binoculars, 02 watched that scene unfold, feeling memories surge unwillingly up from his subconscious as he watched his memory unfold from a different perspective. He had tried so hard to forget, but he knew the timing of the scene perfectly.

01 had just entered the room with young 02, and the two were arguing in a way that was almost playful. All at once, the young 02 was leaning forward, planting a kiss right on 01's lips, jumping back and laughing nervously a moment later. Sputtering in shock, 01 stepped back for a second, and just as the scientist remembered it, 01 fairly seized his younger self in a strong embrace, his lips warring with the other boy's in a lusty battle for domination.

02 dropped his binoculars and took a shuddering breath, his hard won self control faltering as he let the memory sweep through him. If only that hadn't happened so long ago, he wouldn't have been nearly as broken by his experience under the capture of Oz and those sadistic soldiers. 

Standing up from his hiding place wearily, 02 returned to his tiny hotel room without so much as glancing in the direction of the dorm window. He knew the memory would return when he slept. It was a pleasant memory, but the nightmare that would result from the resurgence of the scene was almost too terrible to even consider.

When 02 did dream, it was either about blood and death, or it was a vision of 01\. The pain he felt as the result of either dream was incredible, but in a twisted way he preferred the former to the latter. Pain he could deal with easily, but shame and guilt where two things he could not so easily dismiss, not even after years of trying. 

As 02 lay down for a quick nap in preparation for his midnight mission, he knew that he would dream of both 01, and the pain would follow. 

~ ~ ~ ~

He was walking, and the world seemed a tad bit larger than it usually did. A comforting weight against his back told 02 all that he needed to know about where and when he was. As he had expected, he was experiencing that dream again. And then, as his subconscious took more control, he was a little lost, moving through the dream as though it was happening to him all over again.

"You shouldn't have argued with the teacher like that, Duo," A nasal voice was droning from behind him. Then he was turning, walking backwards as he looked back at the Japanese boy, a sarcastic smirk finding its way onto his face. 02 faintly thought that it felt strange to smile like that, but then he was pushed out of awareness again. The memory took over completely.

"What was I supposed to do? Let him sit there and rip on the colonies like that? He basically said that we're a bunch of worthless shits, and you think I'm going to take it?" Duo responded, anger crossing his features. "Besides, people know the two of us are not from Earth, it's obvious just by the way we stand. If one of us hadn't spoken up then it would have looked even more conspicuous than my arguing."

Heero stopped for a moment, then continued to follow the other boy down the hallway. "And everyone would have forgotten five minutes later that we had kept quiet. Now people will be talking about you. Silence wouldn't have stuck out nearly as much as your actions did. You need to learn to control yourself."

Ahead of the Wing pilot, Duo turned, opening his room door and grinning. "Yeah, control, sure. You'll see how much control I have when I'm the one that gets to that base first."

"Hn, right," Heero replied dryly. "Without control you'll get distracted from your objectives. Even if you show up before I do, I will still be the one that completes the mission."

"Well, I don't like control. Ruins my fun," Duo replied, a devilish gleam suddenly in his eyes. He took a sudden step closer to the other boy. Their warm breath mingled for a moment as the Shinigami's voice became low and teasing. "In fact, I usually go by what my instincts say."

"Oh really?" The Japanese soldier replied, suddenly looking very confused. Duo was standing **very** close all of a sudden. 

"Really," Duo answered, leaning forward quickly and stealing a kiss from the other boy's lips. He then laughed a bit nervously and hopped back out of punching range. 

Heero's blue eyes were impossibly wide as his hand ghosted up towards his face, fingers probing at his lips as though he had never noticed them before. "What the--What?" 

"Did you like that?" Duo asked quietly, his head ducked a bit as he peered at Heero through a shroud of spiky bangs. "I'm sorry if you didn't, but it felt right at the time."

Still looking shocked, Heero took two quick steps forward and pulled the other boy to him, devouring the other's lips in a ferocious and frantic kiss. Pulling away only slightly, he stared at the boy still held tightly in his arms. "It was right. I don't know why, but it was. It is."

Then they were moving, arms locked around each other in a fierce embrace as they shuffled towards Duo's little bed. Their lips worked together in a warm battle, tongues sparring slickly and smoothly, almost dancing against each other. Sinking back onto the thin mattress, Duo pulled the Japanese boy down with him, drawing Heero on top of his body and moaning softly as their hips rocked together for a moment of pure instinctual bliss. Hands wandered and bodies reacted to soft and clumsy caresses, throaty growls and quiet moans managing to sneak out of the occupied mouths.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, Duo took control, his arms tightening around Heero's back, flat palms smoothing their way down to the soldier's hips. Grinding upward, Duo pulled down with his hands, bringing their sudden arousals together with enough hard friction to make them both moan loudly. Taking advantage of his partner's distraction, Duo hooked his legs up and in a quick movement was sitting on top of Heero, pressing the Japanese boy's back down onto the bed. 

Duo straddled Heero's hips, rocking forward so that the delicious friction could continue. A look of awe and nervous anticipation colored Heero's normally stoic expression, and Duo felt a surge of pure joy at seeing his partner respond in such an animated way. Unable to stop himself, the American leaned forward, lowering his lips to Heero's in a gentle kiss. It was a far cry from the earlier frantic one, but the emotions conveyed in the action spoke more clearly than a thousand of Duo's words could have. 

And Heero was kissing back, turning the simple action into a tender exchange between the two as it progressed. Duo felt a shock of delight surge up within his heart at the response. As he felt gentle hands play over his neck and shoulders, he shuddered, leaning down, even closer to bury eager fingers into Heero's soft thick hair, lightly massaging his scalp. The American felt as though he was slowly melting into the boy soldier beneath him, making him a part of Heero and Heero a part of him. 

Merging together so sweetly, there was nothing in the world but the two of them. The moment was perfect. But it had to end.

Duo felt hands squeezing and pushing gently at his shoulders. Sheepishly he pulled away and sat up, leaning back against the tops of Heero's upper thighs. His voice thick, he took one of the other soldier's hands in his and held it tightly. "See? Sometimes losing control can be a good thing."

Heero looked up at the boy straddling him, his eyes dilated slightly with passion, his lips slightly puffy. "I suppose so. But now...Duo, the mission." The Japanese pilot sounded so regretful. One hand trailed up to rest at the base of Duo's neck, and Heero sat up a little, pulling the American forward a bit to settle in his lap, Duo's legs wrapped around his waist. For a moment longer they sat there, just holding onto each other and trying to sort out their private thoughts.

"There can be balance, you know," Duo said eventually, getting off the bed, a soft smile on his face. 

"Perhaps," the other boy replied, looking thoughtful. He slowly stood up, as though moving from the bed was infinitely difficult.

Duo held out a hand to help Heero stand up, and 02 came roaring to the surface with a tortured but silent cry. As the hands connected, the vision fluctuated. Instead of tenderly holding Heero's warm hand, Duo's hand was going numb, circulation cut off by tight wire bonds. Duo was screaming, the dark world moving around him as he was surrounded by a clammy pallor. 01 was there. 01 was dead.

Sobbing and crying, Duo was beaten until he was unable to move, and then the terrible desecration came, cold and flaccid, hot pain and icy horror mixing together to kill his soul. The act overcame the small boy, completely breaking his psyche with every stab and violation. When it was over, Duo forced himself to stop feeling, otherwise he would have gone completely out of his mind, never to return. With every cold and unnatural defilement he was forced to retreat more and more into his own blank world. It was the only way he could live with himself. Nothing short of a miracle would be able to fix him. 02 didn't believe in miracles.

Duo Maxwell died. There was nothing for a long time. Then 02 was born.

~ ~ ~ ~

02 woke up then, no look of horror or sheen of sweat betraying his intense inner torment. He simply opened his eyes and sat up. Rolling off of the bed, he knew it was time to modify Wing. 

Trying not to think too much about the dream or the nightmare, 02 couldn't help but envision how the dream should have ended, with his foolish younger self playfully locking the unsuspecting 01 in a closet on the way to their Gundams. How ludicrous of that naive little 02, acting in such a ridiculous manner. 01 was right, control was important; 02 knew that control was everything. By now 01 would have obtained the objective in one clean shot to that tower. 01 was efficient.

Leaving the tiny hotel room, 02 adjusted the pack of supplies strapped to his back. He moved quickly and silently, making his careful way to where Wing would be hidden. Soon he was moving through a thicket of trees, his footsteps placed meticulously. He would leave no path. His passing betrayed no sound. 

Up ahead of him, his trained eyes easily picked out the camouflage netting that hid the Gundam from view. Not positive about how long Wing had been there, knowing that Deathscythe had arrived first and was hidden only a half-mile away, 02 was unaware about the exact whereabouts of 01. Memory told him that younger 02 had beaten the other pilot back, and that 01 would visit the boy's room as soon as he returned, but the exact amount of elapsed time was unknown to 02. Therefore he had to move with the utmost caution. If 01 suspected someone had been anywhere near his Gundam, he might do a more precise systems check before he departing for the next mission. It would destroy ten years of work, being caught at this point. 02 absolutely refused to let a careless error be his undoing.

As it was, it was quite fortunate that 02 was being so careful, because only the softest rustle of leaves betrayed 01's movement. Leaping back and into the shadows, 02 stood, watching the approaching young boy for any sign that he had been detected. As 01 walked past 02's hiding place, the Japanese pilot's shoulders stiffened, and he faltered for a moment before continuing onward. 

02 let out his breath and came out of hiding exactly one hundred counts after he had been certain that 01 had left. Only thirty feet away from the boy that had been dead to him for ten years, 02 had felt a foreign sense rise up within his chest, accompanied by both pleasant and completely terrifying memories. He had been downwind of the soldier and had been able to faintly smell that particular odor of gunpowder, Gundanium, and raw power that 02 had forgotten completely. Being in such close proximity to the long dead soldier, 02 felt strangely troubled, as though he had seen a ghost. The knowledge of what was to transpire between 01 and little 02 that night made the scientist unsettled in a way he couldn't completely repress. He had to fix things. 

Making an effort to push those mixed feelings and memories out of his mind, 02 quickly took care of the explosive package on Wing's detonation device. A few subtle changes in angles and firing order modified the blast so that instead of the cockpit being held in the heart of the debris, it would get a preliminary blast that would be just enough to throw the pilot away from any flying shrapnel. 02 remembered the sensory data his Gundam had picked up of 01 stepping out of his cockpit to trigger the self-destruct. With these modifications, 01 would be thrown free and with all probability, survive. 

Now that those unexpected soldiers had been terminated, there would be no back-up reserves to apprehend 03 from picking up 01's body. Therefore, 03 would not be caught and would not be crippled. At the very least, 02 knew that he had saved his former associate from that particular fate. 

The mission was not complete, however, until he was certain that 01 would live. Consequently, he would have to be present after the battle to make sure that 01 survived the wounds he'd receive from the long descent to the ground after the explosion. Only then would 02 be satisfied with the job and consider it finished. 

In two and a half weeks he would cease to exist, and he had to be certain that his efforts were not in vain. He didn't want his younger self to become like him; that was a fate 02 wouldn't wish on anyone.

~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning 02 was on the move before dawn broke, on his way to a point where 03 was going to pause on the way to his mission camp. Many times 03 had outlined where and when he temporarily halted in his route, explaining as well as he could remember his level of distraction and attention at each stop. 02 felt suitably prepared as he hid amongst some thick brush at the side of a deserted highway only two days after taking care of Wing. 

Constant travel and little nourishment had made the man weary, but the pieces were moving into place; he could not yet rest. Just as 03 had told him he would, the younger version of the wheelchair-bound scientist was pulling to a stop right in front of 02's hiding place. 

02 watched as the young 03 gracefully leapt down from the cab of the truck. Seeing 03 so mobile was slightly shocking, and 02 had a hard time overlapping the boy before him with the crippled scientist he had spent years working alongside. 

03 moved away from the truck for a moment, stretching his long legs and pulling out a small communications device as he circled around the vehicle. As soon as 02 saw the opening, he was up and running, and in seconds he was underneath the flatbed of the truck, separated from the Gundam HeavyArms by only a strong expanse of steel above his head. Crouched down and peering out from under the edge of the flatbed, 02 watched as 03's legs disappeared back up into the truck cab. Scuttling along underneath the bed of the truck, 02 made his way to the tail end of the vehicle. He stood up, being careful to stay in the blind spots of 03's mirrors. Carefully, as the truck started up again with a deep rumble, 02 leapt up to sit next to the covered Gundam's feet.

Easing back the heavy tarp that masked HeavyArms from view, 02 crawled underneath the material and between the suit's feet. Activating an electromagnetic belt tuned to the specific particle frequency of Gundanium, 02 secured himself, attached now to the Gundam for duration of the ride. Smoothing the tarp, he lay down and tried to become just relaxed enough to sleep without getting comfortable enough that he'd lose his alertness. Finally finding just the right balance between pain and repose, 02 let the dull roar of the engine in his ears and vibrating steel under his back lull him into a restless sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~

The repressed emotions sparked by surfacing memories rose up in 02's mind, gagging and silencing him into submission and taking him into a land ruled by harsh nightmares. Everything he had seen that had brought back the good memories had also sparked the remembrance of the coldly creative violation of his mind and body. 

The contrast of the pleasant memories made the vision that much more painful.

Raw pain tore through his mind, and he was assaulted by memory after memory of pain and degradation. Cruel taunts accompanied the physical abuse, the vague images of faceless Oz soldiers surrounding him. A slice of pain at the back of his scalp as part of the skin was ripped away with the hair. Hot blood and misery, trickling down the nerves of his neck. It was nothing in comparison, though...

A choked scream, and then blackness. Resurfacing again, the stiff form of a dark haired corpse, now violation, cold shooting stabs of humiliation. 

Thrusting agony. 

Cold. 

Shame. 

Guilt.

A sensation of breaking, then it was all at a distance. Observing the torture now, not feeling. 

02 regained awareness, his eyes snapping open. The truck had stopped moving forward, but the engine still rumbled. A moment later, the truck was moving again, and 02 relaxed, letting his thoughts have free reign, a mistake he acknowledged even as he made it.

The nightmare had come back again, and he knew it was because of the reminders he had experienced over the course of the mission. Seeing the interaction between his younger self and 01, he had been unable to repress the lonely bright memory. That had been a mistake, and seeing 01 so closely had only reminded his subconscious of the pain that had followed. Being back in this time, 02 knew that he was rapidly losing part of himself. He was degenerating, regressing slightly, and it was because of the environment he had been thrust into. The brutal death of his colleagues, the reminders, and the whole concept of the mission itself wore heavily on 02's mind. And here he had thought the experiences were behind him. Pathetic.

Once again 02 let himself drop into oblivion, resigned to his fate of nightmares and recalled agony. It kept him going, after all. Motivation in its strongest sense, he didn't want the world to turn out like it had. Resolve and shame solidified his determination even as he fell back into the land of sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~

### The Cadence of Time: Movement 3

**Dissonant Chords**

02 woke up precisely thirty seconds before young 03 stopped the truck. Instantly alert, the scientist deactivated his electromagnetic belt and slithered on his belly to the edge of the tarp. Just as the truck halted, 02 slid out from underneath the heavy fabric and crawled under the flatbed of the truck. He stayed in a painful crouch until little 03 started uncovering the Gundam. When half of the tarp was drooping and pooling on the ground, 02 edged around it and into the cover of the surrounding trees.

Soon 03 had his HeavyArms uncovered and ready for battle, the truck now concealed with camouflage netting. As 02 observed, the young pilot checked his watch then climbed up into the cockpit. A few moments later, just it had happened before, 03 took off, the Gundam lifting up and disappearing in a hot flurry of boosters and exhaust. In approximately five minutes 03 would rendezvous with the high-speed air transport he had acquired for the mission, part of his attack strategy. 

02 left his hiding spot, setting up a communications array quickly and efficiently. Even as he heard resonating explosions and saw the bright aerial evidence of the distant battle, he tuned into the various transmission frequencies being used by both Oz and the Gundam pilots. Tapping in immediately to the particular wavelengths, he listened to the battle as it unfolded, his heart seized in anticipation as he heard that loaded phrase:

"Mission accepted."

The enfolding aftermath of the distant detonation was the longest time of 02's miserable life. He heard 04 mutter as he suffered from his natural empathetic talents, he heard 03's wise words, he heard Marquise tell the pilots to leave. Apparently his raid on those soldiers had been successful, the reinforcement from the nearby base were mysteriously absent. 02, satisfied that he had listened to everything of importance, quickly packed up his equipment and concealed himself again. 

Morbid foreboding filled his mind, he was consumed totally by thoughts of Wing's destruction. If the pilot had survived the blast, then his mission was almost complete. If 01 had died, though, he'd have to try to find some other way to ensure the salvation of the future. It was not a prospect he wanted to consider.

03 returned fairly quickly, and 02 was pleased to observe a limp 01 clutched in HeavyArms' massive right hand. Quickly 03 secured his Gundam to the bed of the truck, and 02 was almost horrified to see that he didn't pull 01 out of the grasp of the mech. In fact, little 03 didn't even cover the Gundam with the heavy tarp. 02 had to act quickly; this was an unexpected deviation. If 01 was still alive, traveling under such conditions could conceivably kill him.

Fairly bursting from his hiding spot, 02 climbed onto the back of the flatbed of the truck as 03 entered the cabin of the vehicle. Waiting until the engine roared to life, the scientist crept up the side of the Gundam's body, being sure once again to stay in the blind spots of 03's mirrors. Successfully maneuvering himself up and onto the chest of HeavyArms, 02 activated his electromagnetic belt only when he was lying prostrate next to the still body of 01.

Carefully, 02 assessed the boy before him. 01's eyes were wide and staring, his pupils tiny pinpricks of black surrounded by large blue irises that shone dully in the darkness of the early morning. Snapping his fingers in front of 01's face, 02 observed no reaction. The scientist felt for a pulse and brought his ear right next to 01's nose and mouth, feeling simultaneously for a threading heartbeat and listening for an exhalation of breath.

02 smiled faintly as a sighing sound came from the motionless 01. Pulling back, he looked deep into those blank eyes, feeling a strange wash of emotions flood his senses. 01 was alive. Suddenly the battered pilot started coughing roughly, his slender frame racked and shaking with sickly rattles. Alarmed, 02 opened up his small first aid kit. Smoothing back the dirty brown bangs from 01's forehead, 02 felt the cold sweaty skin. Not good. 

Mission in jeopardy. 

Must fulfill objectives. 

Must get 01 to more stable surroundings. 

Now. 

02 made his decision.

Deactivating his belt, 02 clamored over the top of HeavyArms, completely unconcerned with the speed of the moving vehicle. He jumped down from the Gundam, and rapped hard on the back window of the truck's cabin. Bracing himself, 02 was prepared for the sudden screeching halt as 03 slammed on the unwieldy vehicle's brakes. In less than five seconds, 02 found himself staring down the short barrel of a handgun.

He laughed cruelly and snatched the gun out of 03's hand. "Don't worry about me. I won't hurt you. 01 needs to be stabilized."

Young 03 blinked at his empty hand for a moment, then shifted his gaze to the boy still held in the grip of HeavyArms. Immediately he moved for the cockpit of the Gundam. A bare second later, 01's body was released into the waiting arms of 02.

"Who are you?" Little 03 asked coldly, glaring at 02.

"That's not important. 01 must be stabilized immediately," 02 responded in an equally frigid tone.

For a long moment 03 stared at the scientist. Then he nodded, striding to the cabin of the truck and returning a moment later with a blanket. "Here, wrap him in this and bring him inside the cabin. I'll pull off somewhere further down the road, where it will be safer for us to hide."

02 nodded, cooperating with the young soldier. A few minutes later they were making a temporary camp in a small clearing. 02 lay 01's trembling and battered body on another thick blanket that 03 provided. Working together, the two managed to stabilize 01, bandaging his wounds and giving the teenager injections to ward off possible infection and sedating him into a deep rest. As the tranquilizers channeled through his system, the boy soldier's eyes finally closed. Lastly, they injected 01 with painkillers so that if he awoke, he wouldn't be in agony. 

Young 03 turned to 02. "Talk. Who are you? Where you sent by S?"

"Actually, in a way, yes," 02 answered, contemplating whether or not to tell this young version of his dead comrade the truth. Considering the options, he decided that the more information this little soldier had, the better he'd be prepared to deal with the future. Besides, 02 suspected that no matter what he said, it wouldn't matter to the time stream. Almighty time had a way of repairing itself, and 02 was beginning to feel a tad foolish to think that his mere presence would rupture the very fabric of the universe.

The arrogance of the living dead, 02 reflected, was astounding.

"Explain," 03 demanded, pulling another gun out and aiming it at 02.

"I was the second Gundam pilot, Duo Maxwell. In my timeline, 01 died when he self-destructed, pierced by debris as he was projected forward by the fierce explosion. You, 03, were captured trying to dig his body out of the wreckage. You were paralyzed, your spinal column severed and your legs rendered completely useless," 02 spoke coldy and concisely, noting the flicker of horror in the young soldier's eyes at the mention of the being disabled in such a way. 

"Continue," 03 asked, his voice betraying only the barest traces of morbid curiosity.

"The rest of the surviving pilots banded together to rescue you. Your Gundam was destroyed. Maxwell was captured and broken, his Gundam also lost. Before long the war was over; Oz and Romefeller victorious. 05 lost his hand, and 04 was scarred terribly. We became scientists as the years progressed, becoming numbers instead of letters," 02 paused his emotionless speech to gauge little 03's reaction. Having never met 03 when the man had been complete, he was surprised how purposefully unresponsive the boy was. The 03 he had known had been the calming influence of their group. Strange how pain can change a person.

"You haven't finished. How is that you are you here now? How do I know you aren't lying and will kill us as soon as I drop my guard?" 03 demanded, his voice hard and sharp. So the boy was affected by the story after all, he was covering his confusion with blank rage.

"We built a time machine of sorts. After years of work, it was finally ready. I came back to fix things," 02 completed the necessary information quickly. If this young 03 was as astute as his older self had been, he'd consider 02's words then ask questions after he had considered every perspective for himself. 03 had been nothing if not thorough.

A few silent minutes passed as the young soldier considered at the scientist and his words. Finally, the boy lowered his arm, placing his firearm in a hidden holster. Wordlessly, 02 tossed back the gun he had confiscated from the pilot earlier. 03 caught it and tucked it away.

Then the questions started, just as 02 had predicted.

First 03 started on the finer details of 02's past, dwelling particularly on the crippling and 04's scarring. After attacking 02's story from every possible angle and finding no discrepancies in the data, 03 stood and paced back and forth across the small clearing for almost an hour, his long legs working in the dark of the early morning. Halting in mid-stride, he turned and glared down at the still seated 02.

"Okay, your story is damn good, I'll give you that. You'll understand, though, that I need some sort of proof. Tell me something else, something unrelated to your mission. Convince me that you and I were comrades," 03 demanded.

"Very well, 03," 02 replied, glaring up at 03 even as his hands fluttered over the sleeping 01, checking on the soldier. "You and 04 spent time together, and in that short time you became intimately acquainted. 04 could not sit comfortably for a week. Need I go into more specific detail?"

"No," 03 responded, his eyes flashing dangerously. "And do not call me 03. I may not have a name of my own, but I am not a mere number."

"Fine, nanashi," 02 answered.

"Look, call me Trowa Barton. It's my code name," 03 said, one eyebrow twitching.

"I know. By this time, Barton, your spine had been broken. Did you know that? It should have happened hours ago," 02 responded, his voice full of malicious glee. So the child was going to be difficult? Fine, 02 could deal with that. It would be his pleasure.

"Thank you for sharing your information," Barton snapped sarcastically, the cold man's stare and attitude finally wearing thin.

"You are ever so welcome, Barton," 02 responded in an equally sardonic tone, his voice becoming artificially pleasant as he continued. "Need I tell you exactly how your little blond looked when his eye was burned out of its socket by searing acid? I was there, you know. I smelled the burning flesh and watched it steal a large portion of his humanity. Do I need to explain to you exactly how your friend 05's muscles were melted right of his hand even as he was electrocuted inside his Gundam's cockpit? How he had to pick melted tissue and fat from the instrument panel even as his stump healed into a patchwork of nerve shattered scars, the result of his own humiliation when he had amputated the charred bones? Do I? Don't get contrite with me, Barton. I've seen far more than you could ever imagine, you told me so yourself. My existence is forfeit now, and I refuse to take your irreverence. You should show some respect for your elder."

02 stopped his tirade abruptly, shocked to the core that he had let this mere child evoke such strong irritation. Anger was coursing through his veins like a virus. Clamping down on his emotions, 02 reasserted his control, slamming it down like iron shutters, burning him inside. Such outbursts were detrimental. 

He had suspected it before, but now he was certain that he was degenerating. Sixteen days were left, if he was this weak this early, then he might have to terminate his life prematurely. He could not risk damaging 01 with his errant emotions. That would be an unforgivable crime and could endanger the mission.

"Are you okay?" Barton asked quietly.

"I am of no consequence. Care for 01. I will observe until I am satisfied that you are competent enough to ensure his survival," 02 replied, his voice frosty. 

Barton just nodded. "I will do as you ask. I may require your assistance."

"You may have it," 02 bit out, now having to make an effort to be curt. 

"Good. Stay with him while I travel to the nearest town for supplies. It is about a mile to the east. I will travel on foot. I should be back within a few hours," the young pilot said, his voice calm. Perhaps 02 had been wrong in his initial assessment, this boy might be as proficient and wise as 03\. Already he knew that 02 would not hurt the injured 01. Perhaps this 03, Barton, could be trusted. Time would tell.

"Acceptable," 02 responded, his voice not as harsh.

The pilot departed quickly, disappearing into the trees. 02 was left with 01\. They were alone.

For the first time in ten years, 02 felt like crying. He was losing himself. Again.

What was wrong with him? He was a scientist! He was in control! Long forgotten shame and affection be damned! With the violation erased from history, he felt his guilt and fear fading, replaced only with that inkling of fondness. Since young 02 was no longer sullied by the actions of 02's timeline, 02 felt his mind start to split. 01's body had been both pleasurable to his younger self and the very death of him, but with the life in 01 the possibility of the violation was erased. 02 felt his mind whirl. 01 was not a corpse. It couldn't have happened. Those angry emotions were fading. Time was repairing him. 

02 did not like this development.

Letting a small growl of rage escape from between his clenched teeth, 02 desperately tried to hold onto his hatred, shame, guilt, and anger. It was what had kept him alive and motivated for so long, he was almost afraid for it to leave him. But nevertheless, the emotions started to purge themselves from his psyche. The memories remained, but the intense rage faded. He became more and more numb as he lost the only driving force he had left. He became a shell once more, stewing in his own self-loathing at losing his control.

01 groaned, jolting 02 out of his reverie. 

Instantly pushing his desperate thoughts to the back of his mind, 02 leaned forward, hovering over the smaller form of 01. 02 had to stifle a gasp when 01 opened his eyes. The scientist berated himself for having such a reaction.

"Duo?" The blue eyes focused on 02, a tiny smile drowsily creeping onto his battered face.

"No, I am 02," the scientist replied softly.

"Duo," 01 repeated, fading back into unconsciousness.

02 sat and stared at the sleeping boy. Ten years passed in the blink of an eye. 

A long time.

~ ~ ~ ~

A few hours later Barton returned, carrying a pack loaded with food, medical supplies, and provisions. 02 was momentarily taken aback when he saw the young pilot had brought enough food for all three of them. Quickly turning off his surprise, the scientist informed Barton of 01's brief awakening. Of the words the boy had spoken, 02 said nothing.

By afternoon 01 had not stirred from his sleep. A sudden thought occurred to 02 as he contemplated his situation. A theory about his influence on the time stream had been brewing in his mind, and with Barton's help, he would be able to test it.

"Barton! I need you to use HeavyArm's surveillance equipment to record me doing something. Will you?" 02 asked, his voice starting out harsh and ending almost softly. 

"Perhaps," Barton replied. "I trust you with 01, but I do not trust you with anything else. What will you do with the recording?"

"I will destroy it after viewing it. I think that perhaps you will believe my history after this experiment has been completed," 02 replied, unable to stop a sinister smirk from sneaking onto his countenance. Quickly he eradicated the expression.

"We'll see," Barton replied, vaulting easily up to the cockpit of his Gundam, the mech having been liberated from the truck for routine maintenance earlier that day. 

02 watched the limber climbing with strange curiosity. The boy had been either walking constantly or jumping acrobatically all day. 02 felt a strange fascination every time the boy reassured himself that his legs were whole, and the easy leaps up to the cockpit of HeavyArms were just another display of the magnitude of 03's lost grace. Soon after Barton had disappeared into the cockpit, a faint thrum of energy coursed through the mech as the green eyes glowed with artificial life. 

"Ready?" 02 asked, staring blankly up at the machine.

"Go on," Barton's voice rang out from an external speaker, the volume barely loud enough to be heard in the hush of the forest clearing.

02 walked around the campsite, picking up things and putting them down in random places. He scuffled his feet deliberately, making tracks in the dirt and underbrush. Finally, he took his shoe off and laid it precisely down on top of a bag.

"Done," 02 called up. 

A moment later the cockpit door opened and Barton stepped out. "You wanted to see the data?"

02 took the implicit invitation and climbed up the Gundam. As soon as he had joined Barton by the cockpit entrance, the pilot pointed a gun at the scientist. "Try anything and I will shoot you."

"Whatever makes you feel comfortable is fine. Will you be planning to watch the surveillance footage with me?" 02 asked impersonally. "If so, it would be easier to download it onto a smaller device and view it on the ground."

Barton blinked, then nodded.

02 jumped down from the cockpit, landing carefully on the uneven ground. He was sure to protect his still shoeless foot as he landed solidly in a crouch. A few minutes later Barton also leaped down, rolling forward easily and vaulting to his feet with an added flip, a showy landing filled with unnecessary acrobatics. 02 mentally scoffed, then scolded himself for being affected by the boy's implied joy at being complete. 

Setting up a portable vid-screen, the man and boy watched the recording. On the screen wind blew harshly, rearranging the objects the scientist had moved. Not once did the man appear, nor did the shoe he had placed on the bag. Nowhere was there evidence that 02 had been recorded at all. The tape ended.

"How is that possible? I saw you move those things. Your shoe is still on top of that bag. Why it didn't it show up? How come **you** didn't show up?" Barton inquired quietly, his jaw clenching as he ground his teeth together, the impossible thoughts circling in his uninitiated mind.

"Just as I suspected," 02 replied, retrieving the footwear and putting it back on. "I cannot influence the time stream. All record of me will cease when my deadline expires. This is truly favorable news."

"Expire?" Barton asked.

"Yes, I will cease to exist in approximately sixteen days," 02 answered simply, no emotion in his voice.

"How can you live with that knowledge?" Barton probed.

"Nonexistence is better than the fate I would have suffered if 01 had died on that battlefield, if I had not made modifications to his explosive pack," 02 stated.

"What could be so bad? Duo, is that your name? Was it worse than what happened to me, Quatre, and Wufei?" Barton asked quietly.

"Duo does not exist anymore. I am 02. And what happened to me was something worse than I could have imagined in all my wildest and most horrifying nightmares and speculations," the scientist replied, his voice freezing to hardened ice. He did not want to speak of these things.

"Rape?" Barton asked, his voice suddenly hushed. It was as though the volume on the world had been turned down.

"In a way, yes, but it was much worse than that," 02 whispered fiercely. The memories were assaulting him, and he felt that strange duality of mind as his logic fought against his emotions. It couldn't have happened now! He had fixed it! 01 was alive! His thoughts were a quiet roar.

"I'm sorry," Barton replied. "I won't ask you again if you do not wish to talk about it."

"Thank you, Trowa," 02 said, his voice almost too low to be heard.

It was silent as the young pilot watched the broken scientist. "Why don't you take a short walk, get your mind together? I will watch over 01."

02 nodded, then slipped away. As soon as he was out of sight and out of earshot, he crumpled to the ground. What was happening to him?

~ ~ ~ ~

### The Cadence of Time: Movement 4

**Repetition of the Primary Melody**

02 sat amongst the scattered undergrowth and loose dirt of the forest floor. Remaining completely still, the man's face never wavered from its blank mask of indifference, but inside 02 felt as though he were literally coming apart. His hard-earned control was slipping; his emotions were starting to resurface. It was all because of the time stream and its regressive influence on a traveler's mind. Of course, that had to be it...

The loss of discipline was not his fault. Definitely not. Inconceivable. 

The scientist reasserted his strength of mind and pushed all those pathetic and distracting emotions aside.

Standing up, the man brushed the dirt from his clothing and schooled an expression of cold determination onto his face. 02 strode back to the small camp silently, slipping from the foliage in one sudden movement. Trowa blinked in surprise, but did not betray any other reaction at the scientist's sudden appearance.

"Better?" The young soldier asked quietly.

02 crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes. I will watch 01 now. You must rest."

Trowa considered for a moment, then nodded. "I suppose that if you were going to kill me you would have done so by now."

"Of course," 02 replied, no hint of mirth evident in his voice or expression.

"May I ask you something?" Trowa ventured as focused on unfolding a sleeping pallet. 

02 raised a single eyebrow and said nothing. He waited for the young pilot to continue. It would be futile not to allow him a few questions, he'd ask whether 02 liked it or not. 

"What is 01's name?"

"Oh, that's right," 02 replied, his voice cutting but casual. He did not approve of the boy's curiosity. "You've never had the opportunity to meet with him in person. You and 05 had left New Edwards before that Po woman broke into the com channels and flagrantly announced his alias. 01's code name is Heero Yuy. We did not research is birth name."

"How could you prepare for this entire mission of yours and not find out his real name?" Trowa asked. He didn't look up from his preparations, but his shoulders tensed slightly.

"It was irrelevant," 02 shrugged.

The young pilot looked up and just **stared** at the scientist for a moment before lying down and rolling onto his side, deliberately putting his back to 02. It was either a subtle show of trust, or it was a way to prepare a weapon out of 02's line of sight. A person as intelligent as Trowa would not make a potentially risky gesture like that without motive. 

02 didn't care either way, though. Let the boy think what he wanted to think and do what he wanted to do. It did not matter to the scientist. Only one thing did.

The man sat down at 01's side and stared down at the sleeping soldier.

It wasn't long before Trowa's breathing had evened out, a sign that he had fallen asleep. 02 felt himself relax slightly, an involuntary reaction he immediately scolded himself for having. Steeling his mind and body into full readiness again, the scientist carefully monitored 01's breathing patterns and unconscious movements down to the tiniest of muscle twitches. The painkillers were obviously working; 01 rest was undisturbed. With clinical objectiveness 02 noted the smooth taut muscles peeking out from between the swath of bandages circling the boy's chest.

Sixteen days left. Compared to ten years, it was nothing. 02 clenched his fists.

~ ~ ~ ~

Three days passed with no change in 01's condition. The boy soldier would seem to wake for brief and incoherent moments then pass out again almost immediately. 

Trowa was becoming restless. The need to keep traveling stirred his dormant mercenary blood. 02 agreed with the boy's rationalization; the proximity to the battleground was too close for the scientist's comfort. Transporting 01 to a more sanitary environment would also help insure the boy's survival. These things in mind, the two collaborated and made the decision to move. The next day the pilot and the scientist prepared their patient and the supplies for the trip to the nearest safe house Trowa had been able to locate. 

A night in transit was beneficial for all parties involved. While the former mercenary was content to be traveling to more secure territory, 02 was satisfied that the change in location would be favorable to the recovery of the injured 01. In the back of his mind 02 also realized that the longer 01 took to heal, the less likely 02 would be confronted with a delirious and confused little soldier wondering why the scientist looked so much like the Duo 01 knew. If 02 had not been so well disciplined, he would have grimaced at the thought of confronting 01 when the boy was awake and lucid.

That was something that 02 dreaded from the start of his jaunt through time, one of the reasons he and his comrades had been searching for a traveler to carry out this mission. The demons that 02 had buried so long ago were threatening to dig their way out of their condemned graves. The reemergence of his past was not a happy prospect in the least, and therefore 02 tried to remain indifferent to the existence of that possibility.

Two weeks ago he would have never had those distracting thoughts. At that point, he had attempted to blame their influence strictly on the detrimental affects rendered on his consciousness from his skip backwards in time. However, he was finding it harder to keep himself convinced that the trip back was the only reason for his decay of control. He speculated that he was allowing himself to be influenced, that the loss of discipline was entirely his fault. He did not fully understand why this would be the case, but he found himself spending less time worrying about it as time marched forward. 02 knew he was deteriorating, but he was beginning not to care. ...And that in and of itself alarmed him more than any of his weak reactions combined. 

Despite these heavy thoughts, 02 would not allow himself to cut his existence shorter than the predetermined duration. 01 might need him. 

Arriving in the early morning dawn at the designated safe house, 02 pulled himself from his introspection and turned his attention to the wounded soldier lying prostrate on the seat beside him. For the duration of the drive 02 had been forced to sit crammed against the cold metal door of the truck. 01 was stretched out lengthwise on the seat between 02 and Trowa. Only 01's short stature made it possible for the seating arrangement to be feasible. As it was, the petite soldier's feet were propped in Trowa's lap as the pilot drove. Much to 02's relief, it had not been necessary for him to hold 01's head in his lap. The scientist honestly did not think he could have handled that measure of closeness to another person.

Wordlessly 02 and Trowa setup the safe house and secured the area, leaving 01 relatively protected in the locked cabin of the truck. Only when everything was prepared did they move 01 into the house and onto a small hard bed. That done, the two retreated to different areas of the small building, each deciding to deal with their own needs and take care of their own business. Hours alone together in the truck had been tedious and uncomfortable for them both.

With less than two weeks left of his existence, 02 let himself fall asleep. For the past few days, ever since he had come into actual contact with Trowa and 01, 02 had not allowed himself any measure of prolonged rest. His body was used to such treatment from years of scientific work, but that did not mean that the man particularly **enjoyed** being exhausted and sleep-deprived. 

However, his current physical depletion and the trust he now reluctantly harbored for the young version of his dead comrade demanded that he rest now that the opportunity presented itself. His patient was safe. He had no substantial motivation to stay awake. 02 was left with no excuses.

Even as 02 felt the darkness take him, he knew that he'd relive the death of Maxwell. He always experienced the memories in his dreams when his mind was this debilitated. His crumbling control needed a break, and without his consent it would flee, leaving him utterly vulnerable to the unmitigated horror of his past.

And it did.

~ ~ ~ ~

Everything was happening all over again. 02 was not present, and Duo Maxwell was still in charge.

It was dark. 

He was running. 

Duo's boot heels clicked as he hustled along, turning around frequently to spray the passageway behind him with bullets. Laughing, the young thief shouted taunts at his pursuers, desperate stabs at feigned arrogance surfacing and protecting him from panicked fear, allowing his mind to calculate the best route back to his waiting Deathscythe. 

Instinct.

Outside now, cool air hitting a flushed but grinning face, Duo was at the foot of the dark Gundam, turning and tossing a grenade even as he was drawn swiftly upwards by the machine's drop line. Cackling and jeering at the soldiers that had tortured the other pilot, Duo leapt into the cockpit and kept shooting as the door descended. 

Then the vengeful law of averages decided to finally hook him. A single bullet managed to sneak through the closing hatch, ricocheting off the Gundanium casing and piercing his thin body. A choked cry, searing pain, and time began to take on a strange quality. 

Disbelief and horror took its panicked toll, stealing precious seconds that could have saved the boy's sanity. Duo coughed, spraying pink-tinged spittle all over his chin, down his chest, staining the front of his clothing. 

He tried to self-destruct, but the mechanism failed. He stared at the triggering mechanism for a moment, watching it fall from his suddenly limp hand...

He fell into black unconsciousness.

Suddenly a blinding light invaded the darkness, and Duo woke up, his eyes sore, his face swollen and trespassing into the edges of his vision. The dream had skipped past the days of starvation, sleep deprivation, and cruel beatings. What lay in store for the wise but still naïve little pilot was infinitely more disturbing than those ordinary tortures. 

During the very worst parts of his agony the boy had verbally provoked the soldiers, tossing out the most jagged insults he knew, daring them to make him crack, or even to just kill him. He laughed at them as they bashed his face with their feet, their fists, their belts. He didn't even break down when they sliced away his long rope of hair, taking a chunk of bloody scalp along with the braid. 

Duo had smiled merrily with his busted lips as he compared the Oz soldiers to his fellow pilots, calling those grown men cowards for beating a little colony brat, telling them in a variety of ways how pathetic they were and how boring their abuse was. He laughed loudly and told them how many mobile suits he had personally destroyed, how many of their comrades he had killed. 

He called them fools. He called them sheep. He called them everything he could think of. Everything.

He was to regret those words. 

Duo's hands and feet were numb; circulation all but cut off by the crude wire they had wound tightly over his fingers, toes, hands, feet, and torso. Ordinary cuffs wouldn't hold him, and no knot would remained tied more than five minutes in reach of his crafty fingers, so they had wired his hands together behinds his back and bound his bare feet to the legs of his steel chair, which was in turn bolted to the floor. 

The room was cold, and the boy shivered slightly, his tattered clothing no protection against the insidious chill. His eyes wouldn't focus properly; the offensive light obscured his vision with ugly splotches as his tormentors dragged something into the freezing room and dumped it on the floor a few feet in front of him. Suddenly a foul stench invaded Duo's nose. He blanched but squinted harder than ever to see what the soldiers had in store for him.

"Well, let's see how creative you think this is, little Shinigami," a guttural voice jeered, the hot breath of the nameless soldier on the back his neck. Duo leaned forward against the wires wrapped around his chest, feeling the cord cut into his skin. He didn't wince.

"Yes, you claim to be the God of Death, we will see how you much you enjoy meeting one of your subjects. You mentioned that you took our noble soldiers to hell, let's see you consort with one of your so-called high and mighty fellow Gundam pilots!" A venomously cultured voice sliced through the air.

"What?" Duo finally managed to croak out, his voice raspy and thick. He hadn't spoken yet that day...at least he didn't think so. He wasn't sure. Time was doing strange things. His bullet wound was infected. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten. The water they poured down his throat was dirty and had made him ill. The boy was barely holding onto consciousness; the only thing holding Duo together were the drugs they pumped into him. They made him hallucinate, but they kept him alive.

A harsh hand with blunt fingernails buried itself in the open wound at the top of Duo's neck causing the boy to gasp as hot blood trickled down his cold back in fresh red trails. The soldier laughed and hauled Duo's head up, forcing his face towards the lump of something they had dragged into the room, the thing that smelled. After a few moments the young pilot's eyes finally managed to focus. He nearly threw up. The men's taunts faded into the background as Duo stared in horror. 

Lying in a lump on the floor was the slightly puffy corpse of the boy known as Heero Yuy. Shock and revulsion welled up in Duo's mind as he stared at the bloated shell of the boy he had been friends with, had laughed with, had almost loved only a short while ago. 

Somewhere in the early to middle stages of decomposition, the skin on the body was marbled and starting to distend slightly, making the corpse's fingernails longer even as his dead skin tried to hold up under the pressure of the bacterial methane swelling the body. The milky eyes were wide open, the small muscles of the corpse's eyelids bunched and contracted, staring sightlessly up at the terrified pilot. The naked belly was tinted a greenish color and rounded with gases. In particular the once strong and chiseled face was swelled out of proportion, dark fluid seeping out of the broken nose and from the mangled mouth. 

The cadaver had been mutilated, beaten and broken, completely desecrated. It was strange seeing the tensed muscles and shattered bones, the lumpy and bloated butchered face not bruised from the obvious post mortem abuse. Other wounds peppering the corpse's skin, ones that were obviously inflicted from the explosion of Wing. These were decaying faster than the surrounding flesh, a trait of asymmetric decomposition. 

In particular there was a gaping hole in the center of the dead boy's chest, and when one of the soldiers kicked the limp corpse forward, a large gash of matching torn flesh on the back made the cause of the boy's death obvious. He had been speared through by a piece of his beloved Gundam. Duo hoped it had been a quick death as he continued to stare, completely unable to tear his gaze away from the body of the other boy. One of the once strong arms had been broken badly, white bone poking out of muscle that could no longer bleed, exposed marrow barely contrasting with the discolored skin. 

Intense grief and injustice flooded Duo's mind, but he could not make his eyes turn from what had once housed the soul of the soldier that had become his best friend.

Then horror beyond comprehension filled the boy's mind. He slowly registered what the first soldier had said. Consorting...and meeting with a subject? He was Shinigami. That could only mean...

Oh God. No. Surely not. No, no, NO! They couldn't mean...

They did. They did. No. Noooooo....no.nonononono. NO. no.

no. no. no.

Hard hands worked the wire off of Duo's now shaking body and harsh laughs echoed in the cold space. The slender boy was yanked out of the chair and down to the ground, thrown almost on top of the dead thing despite Duo's weak attempts to scuttle away. One of his hands brushed against the cadaver as Duo scrambled and fought the brutal men. Pure, icy terror shot through the boy's system at the bare touch. 

A tortured and broken cry erupted from his throat as he was lifted and carried. They threw him against the back of the chair, bending him at the waist and binding him down so that his face was forced down below his chest, pressed into the chair's seat, his hips cutting painfully into the cold steel of the chair back. His arms were pulled forward and down below his head, his hands tied to the front legs of the chair even as his feet were lashed to the back legs. A moment later and his pants were roughly ripped away, and a shudder of pure fear tore into him as the ugly reality of his situation really hit him. Bent forward over the back of the chair, his arms and legs encased in cutting wire, he started struggling like a caged animal. He closed his eyes.

Duo Maxwell started to cry.

"Maybe we shouldn't..." The first soldier sounded doubtful.

"If you are such a coward that you would back down from administering punishment to a mass murderer, then you might as well leave the service completely," the smooth and educated voice clipped harshly, cold tones cutting through the frigid air.

"He's just a kid," the other man replied quietly. "Look at him, he can't be more than sixteen."

"That **kid** shot twelve men and assisted in the annihilation of hundreds," the refined voice retorted. "Are you a man of action, or are you a man of empty words?"

"I...As long as I don't have to actually do it," the rough soldier answered, defeat coloring his voice. There was more speaking, but Duo barely heard what was said, his whole mind focusing on praying that someone, anyone, would stop these men. The cultured soldier started to laugh, telling him how they had prepared the body just for the boy.

Duo buried his face in his shoulder as he heard the torrent of words end, all hope dying within his soul as he heard soft shuffling and a few mumbled curses. 

No one was coming to save him. 

A sudden rush of putrid air filled the room and then there was a cool, spongy weight on his nearly bare back. 

Then it began.

Sobbing and whimpering under the cold thrusts, his numbed fingers curled ineffectually against the steel frame of the chair. Duo felt himself retreat, his vision shrinking down to a pinprick of light reflecting off the wires that bound his hands. After a few minutes his mind went totally blank, horror and absolute shame overtaking and destroying him. 

An eternity passed in an hour. 

When it was over, the world was only warm trickling blood down the backs of his thighs, numb fingers, and hot tears.

He ceased to be.

~ ~ ~ ~

02 opened his eyes and forced himself to breathe normally. He took a quick survey of his physical state and berated himself immediately. He had been sweating profusely, and from the crumpled state of his bedclothes, he had moved during the duration of his sleep. Unacceptable. 02 had relived that memory a thousand times over, and never had he let it affect his necessary rest. Anger flooded his mind as he sat up, and his hands grasping the slightly damp sheets. 

A soft knock on the thin bedroom door made 02's head snap up. Instantly he pulled his hair back into its short ponytail, stood up, and in one smooth motion opened the door even as he pulled a gun. Trowa looked impassively at the weapon.

"Yes?" 02 asked, forcing his voice into a clipped monotone as he tucked the handgun away.

"As I am sure you know, my cover is working at a traveling circus," the young pilot stated. "I must go back in order to keep this cover secure. I will make arrangements so that we may bring Yuy there to finish his recovery."

The scientist considered for a moment. This should have been expected, but 02 had not planned for the possibility that Trowa would leave. If 01 should awaken, 02 would have no choice but to be there and assist the boy. To be so close again...02 was unsure if he could maintain the proper mindset to aid the recovering soldier, especially at the rate his mind was deteriorating. 

"Is this troupe of yours trustworthy?" 02 asked, stalling his decision.

"Yes, and because we travel constantly I am able to escape suspicion. It is the best way to keep Yuy safe and to keep you out of the way until your mission ends. I will be back in a week or less," Trowa answered firmly. 02 couldn't help but remember 03's determined voice.

"Fine. Will it be safe to stay here in the meantime, and are there enough supplies?" 02 responded, his mind falling into the comfortable rhythms of planning. By the time the boy came back and they traveled to meet the circus, it was probable that 02 would not exist or be very close to the end. The preparations Trowa was going to make would be absolutely necessary. There was no way around it, 02 was left with no choice. The decision had been made by fate.

"Yes," the pilot nodded. "I will leave now."

Without preamble, Trowa turned and left. In a moment he was gone, and 02 was left to contemplate the possible outcomes of the boy's unexpected absence. None were good. 

02 went to check on his patient.

~ ~ ~ ~

During the first day that 02 was alone in the house with 01, the scientist did not venture into the soldier's room unless he was checking on the boy's status. The images from the dream were still fresh in 02's mind, and although he was loath to admit it, he was gravely affected by the negative emotions stirred by the vision. For years he had repressed the memory, reluctantly reliving it and forcibly pushing it away, only voluntarily tapping into it for the necessary information needed on 01's cause of death, or, more often, for motivation. 

There were times in his past when 02 had wanted to simply let himself die, but the possibility that he could stop the horrific events from happening to his young self kept his rancor fresh. He could not take revenge on the men that had defiled him and desecrated 01, but he could completely destroy them before they had the chance to carry out such an action. This purpose, more than anything, was what had truly driven 02 through those long years of study with his numbered comrades. He suspected they all had their personal reasons. The good of the world sounded wonderful in theory, but personal motivation is always necessary. It was to be expected, even if the men would have never readily admitted it. Personal vengeance was not a clean motive, but vengeance for the entire world was, even if the former was more inspiring than the latter. Such is human nature.

The second day, after 02 had managed to sleep uninterrupted for five hours during the night, the man found himself inexplicably drawn to 01's bedside. Images of livor mortis-stained skin were slowly replaced by the smoothly tanned, if somewhat bruised, complexion of the living boy. Dark hair that splayed thinly on the stale white pillowcase contrasted and pushed away memories of the shedding and slipping scalp of the corpse. Involuntary finger movements and the slow rise and fall of the bandaged chest were studied with the most tedious attention to detail. There was no gaping wound on this 01.

02 found himself absently reaching forward on several occasions, his slightly shaking hands almost touching the unconscious soldier. More than once when he caught himself doing this, he jerked his arm back as though the boy was suddenly made of red hot iron. Flashes of memory would assault him and he would have to force himself not to be sick. Eventually, though, 02 let his trembling fingers quest over the thick white bandages on the boy's arm, trailing down and tentatively touching the unmarred back of 01's thin hand. It was warm and slightly rough, and sometimes the little muscles would twitch under 02's light contact. The scientist felt mildly intoxicated every time he let himself touch the warm hand. The boy was alive.

Surrendering himself to the sensation, 02 reflected suddenly that he was allowing these new emotions to influence his actions. Pondering this, the scientist decided that since this was a positive feeling, then it could be considered a reward for his hard work and his sacrifice. The man knew he was falling away from his control, but the longer he stared at the breathing little boy in front of him, the less he cared. What had happened could not be repeated. That timeline was erased. Success was a wonderful thing, but 02 knew that there was something else driving him, there always had been. 

Deep down, 02 had always known that he still cared for 01. The revelation would have shocked him a week ago and would have been the cause for hours of self-admonition, but now he was getting used to such degeneration of control. He even had a sneaking suspicion that he was enjoying his retreat from the self-restraint that had held him for so long. He remembered the words of Duo, that there could be balance between feelings and control. 02 wasn't sure if he could handle himself without the strict hold on his emotions, but if they were going to be at the forefront of his mind, then he would be forced to deal with them. It was the only logical choice.

And so the second day passed and turned into the second night. With his new lack of control, 02 felt his mind begin to wander. He even allowed himself to hum absently, an involuntary action that he hadn't indulged in for several years. He took longer than necessary in consuming his small evening meal, and with an odd sense of wonder he realized that he was actively tasting the food, savoring its limited flavor. He could not remember that last time he had enjoyed eating. 

Later, after he had watched 01, the man took a lengthy shower, pausing to let the warm spray massage his back until the hot water supply had been depleted. Finally, before 02 lay down on the hard little bed he had been using, he paused to fluff his pillow.

That night he had terrible nightmares, but when he woke up the next morning, they all vanished from his mind as soon as he swung his feet over the edge of the bed. Immediately he went about his business preparing for the day ahead, his mind racing in lethargic circles as he brought his minimal breakfast into 01's room. As 02 ate, he watched with fascination as the boy's chest rose and fell with each slowly drawn breath. Before he had sat down, 02 had opened the curtains slightly. Golden colored sunlight now streamed into the little room, the warm glow illuminating the highlights in the soldier's hair even through the dust and dirt that still clung to the dark strands.

02 put his empty plate aside. Slowly he stood up and leaned forward, bringing his face within a few inches of the unconscious soldier. Tentatively the man took a deep breath, filling his nostrils with the smell of blood, Gundanium, bandages, and body odor. 

The scent of life. 

02 sat back in his chair. He felt another measure of his iron control slip. He let his memories return slowly, easing up into his mind and echoing in his ears. He knew he would have to justify the recollection of the tormentors' words with the present situation. It was the only way Duo Maxwell, that long dead child, would rest in peace. The boy 02 had once been deserved that much, even if the scientist would only have a short time to live with the outcome. As time slowly started to tick away, 02 felt an urgency he hadn't known since before he had been forced into existence.

He let his mind recollect the cultured voice of his nightmares. How ironic it was, 02 suddenly realized, that it was the educated soldier that had been the most barbaric. The man had outlined and detailed for the sobbing and vulnerable Duo just how brutally they had beaten 01's dead body. 

The refined tone had spoke in eloquence about how the Oz lab technicians had refused to transport 01's body after they had taken their tissue samples, expecting the soldiers to bury the body on the base. He had spoken in great length about how they had kicked at the corpse when rigor mortis had set in, how he had personally snapped the dead boy's arm bone. The polished voice had turned malicious as he had talked about the way the skin had marbleized with the settling of the dead blood in the body as the rigor mortis gradually left the corpse. The educated soldier had known all the textbook names for every stage of decay the body had gone through. He spoke of how they had eventually stowed the cadaver in an empty refrigerator to stop the maggots from feasting at the corpse's open wounds. The cold storage had killed the crawling scavengers. The refined voice laughed smoothly when he finished his story, telling little crying Duo that they had taken the body out a few hours before, just so it wouldn't be **too** cold.

02 corrected each horrible word with evidence of the living and breathing boy in front of him. Every snide clinical comment echoing in his head was answered with his own clipped retort. Now he was the educated one.

That cultured soldier had been burned alive in his barracks a few days ago. He would never get the chance to decay. He was ash.

01 had not died. 01 was alive. 

He was right there, warm and healing only a few feet away. 

All the justification, all the changes 02 had made were fresh in his mind, but he felt a hard, painful lump grow in the back of his throat. He could not escape his memories, even if they would never be reality. He had fixed it, but he could not fix himself. With a start, 02 realized that his cheeks were wet.

02 was crying.

02 had never cried.

Duo had.

02 could not stop himself; he surrendered to the pain and let it exit his tired body in thin, choked sobs. He broke down and released the last of his control, his hands coming up to cover his steaming face even as his head bowed and his back hunched. Tendrils of shoulder length hair escaped his ponytail as he hugged one knee to his chest and let the pain rock its way out of his body. An infinitely simple expression of sorrow, the weeping cleansed the man.

Suddenly a small noise broke through his expulsion of grief. Looking up with wavering eyes, he was shocked to see 01's eyelids fluttering. 02 felt a gasp of surprise leave his mouth and he quickly wiped away the wetness from his face. He composed his expression and leaned forward, eagerness and fear teetering together on the edge of his mind.

A moment later clear, deep, and very aware blue eyes focused on the scientist.

"Duo?"

~ ~ ~ ~

### The Cadence of Time: Movement 5

**Reverb**

02 blinked his tear-soaked eyelashes in total, unadulterated shock. Caught in stunned silence, the simple utterance of his dead self's name echoed through his brain, bouncing off the crumbling walls of misguided control and filling in the gaps that pain had gnawed away. He stared at 01's clear, lucid expression. Those blue eyes were tightening at the edges, a glimpse of confusion and fear mixing together in their depths.

Suddenly very self-conscious, 02 tried to pull his thoughts together enough to formulate a suitable response. The very center of his existence was looking at him, had just spoken to him, the very least 02 could do is honor the boy with a response.

But before 02 could find his voice, 01 spoke again, his voice tired but steady. All confusion in his expression was replaced by a calculated hardness.

"You're not Duo."

Finally 02 had something he could respond to with a measure of surety. As though a switch had been flipped, the scientist was sitting straight up in his chair, a weird posturing of calm that contrasted with his disheveled appearance. Flat amethyst lasers burned into the firm blue glare of the boy on the bed. 

02 spoke clearly, professionally. "You are correct, I am not Duo. I am 02." 

Inwardly 02 grimaced at his harsh tone. Mannerisms hammered into his psyche after ten years of practice and iron determination rushed back and masked him safely, masterfully. 02 felt ashamed of his retreat. True strength would have been to deal with emotion in the face of duty, in the face of this pain. He understood that now.

"02? Are you a clone of Duo, then? I assume that your mission does not involve terminating me, otherwise I would already be dead," 01 clipped out, despite his obvious weariness. Already he was having to force his eyes to remain open.

"My mission was to save you," 02 deftly avoided the first part of 01's query.

"How long have I been out? Did Wing destruct completely? Are the colonies safe, or did Une strike after I detonated?" 01 asked, his voice strained as his soldier's instincts demanded to know the details on the resolution of his mission.

"You've been fading in and out of conscious for approximately one week. Yes, Wing detonated successfully, and the colonies are relatively safe for the moment, at least from being blown out of space," 02 answered succinctly. His shoulders bunched tightly, trembling in tense knots under the fabric of his loose shirt.

"Good. I will require briefing on your identity when I wake up," 01 muttered, his face going slack as he dropped off into a natural sleep.

02 stared down at the boy, his emotions warring against each other in the arena of his mind. 01 had no brain damage; his reasoning and mental processes were still intact. Mission complete. The future would have a fighting chance now that 01 was insured to survive. But 02 felt no elation at his victory. 

When it came right down to it, 02 knew he had just acted the part of a coward, and that shame tainted any feeling of satisfaction from successfully carrying out his mission. Unable to fall back and simply let 01 believe that he was Duo, 02 had hidden behind a cold wall of feigned control and professionalism. The resurgence of his emotions was one thing, but embracing and acting on them was an entirely different prospect. It would mean accepting his old identity, not only to himself, but to the world. The world, as far as 02 was concerned at the moment, was 01. Shame welled up within the scientist's newly beating heart, but he knew that just by letting himself **feel** the shame that he was making progress. Maybe, in the nine days and few hours of existence he had left, he could resolve that shame.

He shook himself and stood up, suddenly aware of the drying coolness of his tears on the edge of his shirt collar. Using that as an excuse, he left the room and changed clothing. After a spell of wandering around the house, 02 found himself back at 01's bedside, once again watching the boy sleep. Time passed as though it were only an illusion. Maybe it was.

02 realized he was smiling.

Taking a deep breath, 02 pulled the small band from his short ponytail and tousled his hair lightly. His fingers traced over the puckered bald patches and old scars that lay at the base of his skull; the damage was usually out of sight and out of mind underneath the short tail of hair. 

02 winced. He took another deep breath and relaxed, dropping his hands to his lap where they proceeded to twist absently with the hairband. Sighing, 02 let the small elastic fall to the floor as he rose to his feet, deciding to make something for lunch. A small noise from 01 stopped him cold in his tracks.

The boy soldier's eyelids were twitching as he experienced REM sleep. It was obvious from the muted cries and painful twitching of the boy's body that the dream was not pleasant. A wave of strange nostalgia rolled over 02, almost rocking the man off of his feet. That night, that one night ten years ago, his younger self had witnessed the same thing. Evidently 01 had frequent nightmares during that period of his life. Before, in that time, little Maxwell had gathered the other boy up into his arms and rocked him until the dream ended.

And just as he had done so long ago, 02 found himself climbing onto the narrow bed and pulling that small body carefully into his now much larger arms. Mindful of the boy's delicate condition and multiple injuries, the scientist held the trembling bundle of warmth close. Almost immediately the silent cries stopped and the twitching ceased. For a few more long moments 02 lay there, letting the golden sunlight streaming through the window warm his back and the petite soldier snuggle comfortably against his front.

02 felt peace for the first time in years, but he knew that he had to move. 01 was not his to hold, and if the boy woke up now 02 didn't know how either of them would react. So with a heart full of fervently acknowledged sadness he eased 01 out from the circle of his arms and stood up, careful to make sure that the mattress didn't bounce.

As the man left the room to prepare some food, one dark blue eye slid open slowly, then drooped shut again as the boy drifted back off to sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~

To both 02's disappointment and relief, 01 did not rouse for the rest of the day. Lunch and dinner were both eaten while watching over the sleeping boy, and after a lengthy shower 02 found himself faced with a dilemma. Now that 01 was resting normally, that is, not under the influence of sedatives, he had been having brief bouts with those restless dreams. 02 knew, rationally, 01 would not injure himself further by his nightmare-induced thrashing, but the possible emotional wear might be a detriment to his healing. At least, that's what 02 kept telling himself as he set up a pallet on the floor by 01's bed.

Besides, if 01 woke up and really did think 02 was a threat, then the scientist wanted to be able to hear the boy getting up to try and kill him. By staying in the same room, 02 would surely hear the unavoidable squeal of the mattress springs as 01 moved. 

02 knew that he was just making excuses to be near the sleeping boy, and while he acknowledged this deterioration of rationale, he was beginning not to care. Time was reasserting itself, a thousand tiny ripples had already erased his history, and with it, changed him in the process. As 02 lay down on his back, he considered his mental changes from a new angle.

Because of his trip backwards, he would cease to exist in approximately eight and a half days. Something he hadn't considered was being influenced by the ripples through time, through his past that could now no longer exist. It was as though the ripple effect was trying to catch up with him even through the backward rip in the continuum. Destiny, perhaps, had followed him. 

Shifting a bit on the thin layer of blankets under his back and checking the handgun he had tucked under the edge of his cover, 02 let his mind wander in this new direction. It seemed, that if destiny truly did exist, then his was irrefutably tied in with 01's. From that first meeting ten years ago, to the time spent escaping from the Alliance hospital, to attending the same cover school, all the way to the horrible ordeal that had made 02 let his human side crawl into a corner and attempt to die, 01 was always involved. And here, now, after ten years of preparation to save this boy, because of him 02 would cease to exist all together. Shinigami chasing death, how ironic.

Letting his eyes fall shut, 02 felt an involuntary, foreign little smile curl his lips. 

It had been worth it.

~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning 02 woke with a gun barrel pressed firmly to his forehead. 

He blinked rapidly and fought the involuntary watering of his eyes from the harsh pressure, then, with an almost imperceptible snarl 02 reacted in a fast efficient movement, snatching the gun away and leaping to his feet. Disbelief was his first reaction as he came to his senses. He had let down his guard! He! 02! It was mind-boggling that his sleeping pattern could have changed so drastically in less than a few days. How 01 had managed to wriggle 02's own weapon out from under his blankets and brought to bear was beyond 02 as he struggled to catch up with the thoughts assaulting him.

The next thing 02 felt was embarrassment. In bolting up and grabbing the firearm, he had failed to notice that he had knocked his attacker, 01, right off the bed. Quickly tossing the weapon across the room and effectively out of reach, 02 eased forward carefully, curling an arm around the fallen boy's shoulders. In one strong movement he had the soldier lying safely on the bed.

"You shouldn't have done that. You could have injured yourself further," 02 clipped sharply, his voice echoing ice before he could stop himself.

01 grunted angrily and glared up at 02, his eyes pinching slightly with pain.

"Well, what?" 02 asked, forcing himself to drop his guard and speak in a less angry tone. It sounded so easy in theory to let his emotions back into his life, but in practice it was much more difficult.

"What do you mean, 'What?'" 01 finally asked after staring up at 02 for a second, his words coming between short gasps as he tried to catch his breath. The boy's injures were no doubt throbbing from the effort of standing a few minutes ago, never mind the ungraceful tumble to the floor. 

"You must have had a reason for waking me up with a gun pressed to my forehead. What did you want, information, or to simply kill me?" 02 sighed exasperatedly, letting an edge of sarcasm creep into his voice. "You did have a reason, correct? Strange, I don't remember you acting without reason, 01."

"I have many questions. First of all, where am I and how did I get here after I detonated?" 01 asked after a brief moment of consideration.

"You're in a safe house. As for how you got here, that's a bit of a story," 02 replied.

"So, tell me," 01 grunted as he tried to prop himself up on his elbows. 02 quickly leaned down and helped him, stuffing a pillow under 01's shoulders. Privately the scientist wondered how 01 had enough energy to sneak the gun in the first place; the boy was still very weak from his injuries and probable malnourishment.

Reminded that 01 hadn't really consumed anything other than the occasional force fed gulps of water in his sleep, 02 shook his head. "I'm going to get you food. Then we can talk."

Anger blazed weakly in 01's eyes. "No, tell me now. Who the hell are you, anyway?"

"In a minute," 02 promised, turning on his heel and leaving the room before 01 could respond. 

A few minutes later he returned with high protein liquids and a small bowl of very light broth. After a few minutes 01 had consumed all he could, or would, and was glaring up at 02 again.

"Now."

So 02 began, rattling off his story as though he were a playback machine, starting with an overview of what had happened in his history all the way up to leaving his time and coming back. Then he gave the condensed, purely clinical account of what had happened during the mission, all that he had done and even the deadline. After his long speech, 02 merely sat there, waiting for little 01's reaction.

"That's quite a lot of information to process at one time," 01 finally said quietly, his eyes wide as he stared blankly at the scientist. "But there's things that you are leaving out, such as why you don't go by Duo anymore, or anything at all that one wouldn't find in a history book. All you have given me is cut and dry facts. What broke the old you?"

"You don't want to know," 02 replied darkly.

"I can wait, but you can't, Duo," 01 shot back, his eyelids showing signs of drooping closed. "Besides, what does it matter? I'll forget in a week anyway."

Icy shock hit 02 like a shot. He had only vaguely eluded to the ramifications his travel backwards would have on the time stream. He felt a swell of pride at 01's sharp mind. Nevertheless, "Don't call me by that name."

"Fair enough, but only if you start calling me Heero," 01 replied, a sarcastic smirk fading quickly from his tired face as his voice dropped down to a whisper. "By the way, thanks for yesterday."

"Yesterday?" the scientist echoed, unsure to what Heero was referring.

"With my nightmare..." Heero replied as he let sleep take him, thus completely missing the intensely distraught look on 02's face.

The rest of the day passed in silence.

~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning 02 woke up to the sight of Heero staring over the edge of the bed at him. The injured soldier had rolled onto his side and was craning his neck so that just his eyes cleared the edge of the mattress. His expression was inscrutable as he watched 02 sit up carefully, a wave of dizziness hitting the scientist as he climbed to his feet.

"How long are you going to be around again?" Heero asked as he watched 02 steady himself by leaning against the wall by the headboard.

"Approximately eight days," 02 replied quickly. "Breakfast?"

01 grunted an affirmative and settled down into his nest of covers, his laser sharp gaze scrutinizing every movement 02 made until he was out the doorway and out of sight. When he returned, Heero was trying to stand up, a frustrated look on his face as he grimaced and plopped back down on the bed.

"How did you manage to get the gun yesterday morning?" 02 asked as he set the plates down on the side table.

"I think it was an unpredictable combination of the lingering drugs and the rush of adrenaline I experienced after I saw you lying there. I saw opportunity. You appeared to be sleeping deeply, so I acted and took the gun. I figured it was my own chance to either question you or to kill you," Heero mumbled as he leaned back against the headboard.

"I don't know whether to be alarmed or flattered," 02 muttered dryly, surprising himself with the response.

A few minutes passed as 02 assisted Heero and as the two ate. Finally, 02 cleared his throat and set down his empty plate. "So, do you have any other questions now that you've had time to consider everything I've told you?"

Heero nodded ever so slightly. "A few things, yes. For starters, do you know why no one in your timeline opposed Oz? I know that events escalated quickly, and that now, as in the present, the public is largely apathetic, but I find it hard to believe that only the Gundams and associated personnel were involved in the war effort."

02 considered for a moment. "Well, actually, there were a few pocket groups. For instance, the Barton family, after Khushrenada's assassination, tried to put his previously unaccounted for daughter in the seat of power. They staged a coup, but Romefeller had agents placed within the Barton family's most trusted associates. Of course, these events were arbitrary to the common people, it would have just been one tyrant traded for a slightly different one."

"During the conflict itself, there was a small pacifist group lead by that Dorlain girl, Relena," 02 added, as an afterthought.

"Relena? What?" Heero asked, pure shock edging his voice.

"Oh yes, it turned out that she was only adopted by the Dorlain family. She was actually a Peacecraft, the only one in her entire family still alive. As you know, her adopted father, the Vice Minister, was assassinated. A few weeks after your death it came out that Zechs Marquise was her biological brother. He was, of course, dead by this time. Relena attempted to mobilize the faltering Sank Kingdom to oppose all military actions on both sides, but she just didn't have the strength to carry out her plans. She and her movement disappeared after a few months," 02 elaborated. "Actually, before we decided on saving you, we briefly considered what we could do to help her, but we quickly abandoned that idea."

"Why?" 

"Well, does the Relena you know strike you as the type to head a nation?" 02 asked promptly in return.

"I don't know. Possibly. She's stubborn, even naïve at times," Heero frowned. "But I can't imagine her giving up on a cause."

02 nodded. "From my memories of her, from before, I came to the same conclusions. Then I remembered how she seemed to almost leech strength off of you. Weird girl, maybe she just needed someone to lean on, if only from afar."

Raising one eyebrow, Heero looked slightly nervous. "And here I thought it was a misguided, slightly suicidal crush."

"That too," 02 replied, the quip out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Heero laughed quietly for a moment, then smirked. "For a second there you looked just like Duo."

The world came to a grinding halt.

Instantly 02's tiny melancholy grin straightened into a hard line, his eyes losing any semblance of softness as blue-tinged-purple tinted darkly and sharpened into twin lasers. Heero blinked and physically recoiled, an involuntary reaction to the sudden change in the posture and attitude of the scientist.

"What killed him? Why did he become you?" Heero whispered, his voice thick.

"Something terrible," 02 replied, his voice strained as he grit out the words from behind clenched teeth.

"Then how come you've changed in the last couple of days? You're hot and cold, personable then abrupt. I can see him in you, fighting to get out," the soldier spoke in careful but firm tones, determination and the slightest edges of compassion coloring his voice.

"I've changed because time has changed. The ripple followed me, even though it shouldn't have been able to," 02 answered, taking the out that the boy had given him.

"Care to elaborate on that?" Heero prodded. 

"Time travel into the past creates a change in the time stream. Let's say I, the traveler, am a clump of mud. You throw me into a lake, time, and I'll cause a lot of ripples. The ripples I create may be small, but they reach the farthest shores of time, splashing and affecting all the creatures that live within the lake. Before long, though, I, the mud-rock, sink to the bottom, on the way down loosing bits and pieces of myself to the water around me. Soon I dissolve completely, becoming part of the lake, leaving no evidence other than the things I changed by being thrown in the first place," 02 explained.

"So you're changing as a result of your time travel?" Heero assessed.

"Yes. I am changing because what happened to me and my time have been averted, or at least altered. By coming back I erased the path that I took to get here, and that's why I will cease to exist," the scientist nodded.

"Interesting," the Japanese soldier replied, carefully rubbing his forehead with the back of his arm not completely swaddled in bandages.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, you need to get more rest," 02 suddenly said as he stood up and gathered their breakfast plates. For a moment he felt dizzy, as though he were about to lose his balance.

"I have other questions," Heero protested mildly, even as he felt his wounds throb tiredly.

"Later," 02 put off, lowering his head slightly as he left the room.

As soon as he had left the boy's room, 02 leaned heavily on the wall and sank to the ground with a dull thud. Carefully he set the dishes he had been carrying down, then hunched over and hugged his knees. The world was spinning slightly and he suddenly felt weak. A few minutes of quietly labored breathing later and he felt relatively normal. With some effort he climbed to his feet again, then took the dishes to the tiny kitchen and washed them. Afterwards, however, 02 was forced to sit down again, but thankfully this wave of dizziness wasn't as severe. 

What **else** was happening to him?

~ ~ ~ ~

### The Cadence of Time: Movement 6

**Harmonious Loops**

02 sat for a few minutes, his heartbeat thumping loudly as he tried to catch his suddenly insufficient breath. For some reason, he was having trouble viewing the world in clear focus. The scientist ran through possible diagnoses for his abrupt change in physical condition, but he was unable to come to a conclusion that satisfied him. He finally felt his equilibrium return and stood up. As soon as he stepped away from his chair, however, 02 stumbled and was again forced to stop himself from falling. His heel had caught on the leg of his trousers.

02 knelt down on one knee and rolled up his pants legs. He wondered briefly why he hadn't noticed how ill fitting his clothes were, but quickly dismissed the thought as irrelevant. His sudden bouts of dizziness were of higher priority.

His mind working on the current task at hand, 02 wandered back into Heero's room. It was only when he slumped down in the chair at the boy's bedside did he actually realize where he was. Internally cursing his sudden absentmindedness, 02 understood his extreme folly as Heero's gaze settled on him. The scientist had intended to come back into the room **after** the soldier had fallen asleep, and therefore dodge any further questioning. Well, at least for that morning. Now it seemed that Heero was wide awake and partially revived by the food he had consumed only a short while ago.

"Well?" 02 finally asked wearily.

"Well, what?" Heero replied, smirking slightly.

"You said you had other questions. What are you waiting for?" 02 snapped back. He felt so irritated, irrationally so. With effort he relaxed his suddenly tense posture. "Sorry."

Heero nodded minutely, his hair sliding in clumps against the press of the cotton pillowcase. "All right. I have a question...how long do you have left again?"

"Approximately six days and..." 02 checked his watch, "Around eighteen hours. I'm not sure about the exact hours and minutes since I was unable to confirm my specific arrival time."

"Then why did you say earlier today that you had eight days left?" Heero asked blankly.

"What? No I didn't!" The scientist protested, his voice rising in volume and pitch.

"Yes, you did. Yesterday when you explained everything, you said that you had seven days and a few hours. You story changed from then to now. Explain," The boy toned flatly.

"I--I must have been mistaken," 02 thought for a moment, his mind racing as he calculated the time. His felt so...scattered all of a sudden. Something else was looming on the edge of the conversation here, and it was not related to a minute slip-up in time tracking. He spoke slowly. "It must be part of my mental deterioration."

Heero raised an eyebrow, skepticism clearly etched in every hard line of his face. "Right."

02 glared down at the soldier, mildly outraged. It was very clear that Heero had ulterior motives for this line of questioning. "How can you suddenly be so suspicious, after everything I've told you?"

"You haven't told me anything!" Heero shot back forcefully. "You tell me half truths, and those are by definition half lies! You won't even tell me what killed the Duo I know! How can I possibly believe you when you leave things out and then contradict yourself?"

There was the conversation's other purpose: the boy wanted the whole truth. How noble. How terrifyingly destructive.

Seething, 02 stood up quickly. His chair toppled backwards and skittered harshly across the floor. The scientist paced back and forth across the room, then whirled and stalked straight to Heero's bedside. His face was a cold hard mask of intensity as he stared down at the calculated gaze of the soldier. How dare this, this, this **boy!** endeavor to speak to him in such a way! He gave into his anger. He gave into his guilt. 

He had no choice. The truth must be spoken. It was what Heero wanted. May they survive the consequences...

When 02 spoke, his voice was a soft deadly balance of control and malice. "Do you really want to know what killed him? You want the details? You want to know what happened to make me this way!?"

Struggling, Heero managed to sit straight up. "Yes, damnit!" He immediately fell back down against his pillows, but his point had been made. 

The soldier glared.

"Well, after you were killed, 03, Trowa, pulled your body from the wreckage. He was overwhelmed by a group of reinforcements and yanked from his cockpit. Even as his spine was broken and he was beaten, your still warm corpse was being urinated on and thrashed by the same group of soldiers. But you know this already, don't you? Or did I forget the **details** about what they did to your body?" 02 snapped out, his teeth flashing white as his mouth split into a maniacal grin. 

02 felt as though he was standing in the eye of a hurricane; the boy didn't know what he had truly asked. The scientist was perfectly aware of how he had been manipulated into this confession, but he quite frankly did not care. Even as he came to the realization, he acknowledged his deterioration. It did not matter. This soldier, this young 01, he would not remember anyway. What did anything matter? 02's feral grin widened as he watched Heero's reactions. The youth's face was suddenly a shade paler.

"Fast forward about a week, to when the other pilots and I launched our rescue attempt. Guess what they did with your body? They took tissue samples and threw your into a freezer. Your mutilated, rotting corpse was a lot of fun to kick around, at least that's what they told me! I was captured, you know that too, but you know what they did to me? Do you!?" 02 shouted, spittle flying from his mouth.

The corners of Heero's eyes were tight, his hands clenching into fists. But his voice was steady. "What?"

"They cut off my braid, taking some of the scalp along with it! They beat me, they abused me, they insulted me, and they tortured me! Oh, but that was nothing!" His voice rose in pitch. "I didn't break! No! I threw every word right back at them, laughing as they cut me, spitting on them when they came too close. Then they decided to get...creative," 02's voice lowered to a whisper, all maniacal glee draining suddenly from his tone. 

He couldn't take it anymore, he had to say it, couldn't control himself. 

Autopilot. 

He knew he was violently out of control, that he was on the verge of breaking himself merely by stating his confession. 02 took a deep breath and sank to the floor, kneeling by Heero's bedside. 

He stared into the soldier's eyes with morbid intensity. The scientist saw himself, his own reflection looking right back at him, reflected tiny and warped with Heero's nervous eyes as blue mirrors behind them. For a moment 02 paused, fascinated by his own sickness. 

He couldn't help himself. It had to be done. 

His path had been erased as he made his journey. There was no going back.

He was admitting it happened...that it **had** happened...not to Duo, but to him, to **02**. 

And Heero had lead him to it...

02 stared past his twin reflections and deep into Heero's eyes when he continued. His voice was soft.

"They took your body out of the freezer and brought it into the room with me. It stank. It was rotting. Your arm had been broken, and the bone stuck out. That was bad enough. You were my **friend** , the sight of your mutilated body made my insides ache, my soul wrench. I was reminded in that moment of all I had lost. I could have grown to really love you, in a way that went far beyond our brief encounter in the dorm. I hadn't even realized that I held that hope for after the war when we were both safe, alive...but in that moment it came crashing down; the chance was gone. We'd never find our balance. Everything was gone. Reality crushed me. That pain alone was torture. I didn't think anything could be worse than that feeling. But I was wrong," 02 drew a shaky breath, then steeled himself. It had to be said. 

He **must** say it. 

It was no longer a choice.

"They pushed me over the back of the chair, tied me down, and then they took your body and made it---" 02 broke off, his voice lost as he relived the memory, a wave of dizziness accompanying the soundless, tearless sobs that wracked his shuddering body. Unable to keep his head raised, he slumped forward against the edge of the bed, his forehead resting against the cold steel of the bed frame.

Lost within himself, 02 let the pain rock through his body. Lost in oblivion again...He even forgot about Heero's presence until a tentative hand stroked the top of his head. Jerking up and away, scuttling backwards until his back collided with the far wall, 02 remembered with startling clarity where and when he was. Guilt washed over him as he caught sight of the horrified look in Heero's eyes. The boy had been profoundly affected by the scientist's malicious confession. He looked...wounded. 

Horror washed over 02, threatening to drown him. What had he done? His guilt intensified a hundred fold...survival guilt compounded with victim's guilt and now he had just confessed it all to the one shining reason he had managed to live through it...

"Oh, oh, oh God. I'm sorry," 02 finally choked out. He hugged his knees to his chest but did not look away from Heero's pained gaze. That would have been cowardice.

"What? Why!?" The soldier looked positively startled.

"I--I shouldn't have told you," 02 whispered, unable to raise his voice for fear of it cracking again.

"I deserved to know. You deserved to tell me. I **did** manipulate you into it, so if anything, it's my fault," the boy responded firmly.

"I knew you manipulated me. I let you. Damnit! I don't know what's happening to me. My control...my control...it's leaving me," 02 replied, his voice still faint.

"Your control?" Heero asked quietly. 

"Yes," 02 answered. He hugged both knees more tightly to his chest and bowed his head, finally breaking their gaze. "Look, I'm not going to lie here. I don't like to lie even though I've been living in deceit for years...but back then I had known you for such a short time. You had a profound affect on me. I admired you; you were my friend, and for that one time, you were more. I preached spontaneity; you abided by control. That's all I could hold onto after I let Duo die...Control. It kept me alive. A twisted tribute, if you will. It was all I had left....and now I'm losing it. "

"But you didn't get a chance to know me, not yet, not then," Heero whispered, shifting restlessly. It was obvious he was frustrated by his immobility. "Control is important, yes, but your humanity should never be killed. What about the balance Duo, you, talked about? Missions come first, but you should always follow your emotions. If we, if you, had more time, then you would have known that's how I really feel. I always try to follow my emotions. You didn't have the time to learn that about me."

"It's always about time, isn't it?" 02 replied bitterly, tears finally managing to leak from his eyes. They scalded his cheeks. "I never saw you, as you say, 'live by your emotions.'"

"You did, you have, but you didn't realize it," Heero said, his face tingeing red all of a sudden. "We--uh, well, **that** was following my heart. I don't know if anything more would have come of us, but I'd like to think that there could be something...later. But in that moment, I was going by your philosophy, giving into the moment. I saw for the first time the possibility of balancing emotion and control, the way you suggested. But I haven't had enough time to fully explore the idea, I was expecting there to be time for that later. Of course, I wasn't planning on self-destructing. That just...came up."

"But now there is later, at least for you," 02 replied, peering from underneath the cover of his long bangs. Wisps of hair clung uncomfortably to his wet cheeks.

"There's a later for you, too," Heero argued quietly.

"Not really," 02 shook his head.

"Almost a week," came the reply. "You said we only had that one night?"

"You know that as well as I do," the man answered, rocking slightly. His pants legs needed to be rolled up again, the cuffs were drooping halfway down his feet. Annoying.

"Would you--would you like more than that?"

Shock.

"What?" 02 blinked. What was the boy proposing, exactly?

"Would you like more than that?"

"Do you mean for the Duo of this time? You won't remember any promises you make, you must realize that by now," 02 shook his head, feeling the wetness of his tears chill with the movement.

"No, I mean for you," the boy soldier's voice was whispered, hesitant.

02 swallowed thickly and crawled to the edge of Heero's bed. He knelt there, below the level of the mattress so that he was level with the propped up boy. Then he cleared his throat. "Only if you want me. I don't want pity, and I don't want obligation."

"I think it would impossible to pity someone as strong as you," Heero replied firmly. "Despite how mature you think you are, you will never be anything unless you can live with yourself and your past. It's a hard pill to swallow. I do feel gratitude towards you, but I see my Duo inside you, and I want to make sure he's alive and well before you go."

02 felt something within him break free as he pulled himself up from the floor to sit on the edge of Heero's bed. The whole time 02 moved, he kept his eyes glued to Heero's, gauging the sincerity in them. He leaned forward, closer and closer until he was nose to nose with the soldier. 

They stared at each other. 

A silent conversation between the scientist and the solider, the man and the boy; it lasted a short eternity. It was Heero that finally broke the crystalline mood. He raised his head and softly touched 02's lips with his own.

02 closed his eyes and dwelled within the warm sensation. So different from his own chill...

It was not erotic. 

It did not seek.

It was not fueled by anything other than conviction. 

It was a humble sealing of a complicated pact. 

It offered.

Then Heero relaxed and let his head fall back onto the pillow, his face peaceful and confident. 02 was stunned, the specter of the kiss still lingering on his lips and echoing through his mind. 

"I have to think," the man said, his face contorting involuntarily as his emotions and control warred within his mind.

Heero nodded and closed his eyes. "I'm tired, anyway. We have a lot of ground to cover."

"Yes," 02 whispered.

He stood up and left the room quickly, his strides even and measured but somehow hesitant. He felt as though a million thoughts were assaulting him at once. A great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, but it was already replaced with the seemingly inevitable new kind of uneasiness and guilt. At the same time, he felt a sudden levity, as though he had been granted his most treasured but unacknowledged wish. But then, maybe he had. He felt his mind duel with itself even as his soul felt strangely settled. Could his subconscious be reconciled already? 02 did not know. 

And what of the impact this would have on Heero? 02 could tell the boy's offer had been genuine, but what of the cost? 

Despite his need for confession, 02 did not want the soldier to know what had really happened. Deep down, the scientist had always blamed himself for the death of little Maxwell. Indeed, he blamed himself for the whole encounter. But...was he really sure about his thoughts, his guilt? Was he sure about anything anymore?

Now he knew that his whole control complex had been based on a misguided memory...his whole new existence, his life, based on a misunderstanding. Now Heero, this Heero, his Heero, was going to teach him? What a strain that would be on the recovering soldier! How could 02 be so careless as to let his patient become his teacher? But hadn't Heero always been his teacher, even after Duo left 02's mind? 

What would be different? What would really change?

In less than a week, nothing would matter save that pilot 01 was alive. 

02 lay down on his bed, curling into a tight ball on the bare mattress. His sheets were still stacked in Heero's room.

Heero would not remember him later. Nothing mattered. 

Nothing. 

Mattered.

Maybe that was okay.

It was this thought that ushered 02 into a dreamless, exhausted sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~

A few hours later 02 awoke. He popped his knuckles and stared at the ceiling. Some time during his nap he had uncurled from the fetal position he had fallen asleep in and was now lying flat on his back, a controlled sprawl.

Eventually the man decided to sit up and face the rest of the day. Restless thoughts plagued him as he wandered slowly to the doorway of Heero's room. 02 stood there for a long moment and watched the sleeping boy, drinking in the sight and contemplating their new pact.

How well would Heero really be able to function in the role he had taken? 02 examined the situation clinically, allowing his thoughts to take a purely logical track. In the boy's time, barely two weeks had passed since this little 01 had been with little Maxwell. Since then, the boy had been in the blank limbo of unconscious. So for him it had only been days, if even that, since he had spoken with little Maxwell, with Duo. To borrow one of Duo's old sayings, it had to be one hell of a mind fuck.

02 was sure that the encounter between the two young soldiers had been little 01's first of such a nature. It had probably been a revelation to the boy to realize he was capable of such emotions, and the implications of the two little soldiers' worlds colliding had obviously influenced 01. That much was fairly obvious from their earlier conversation. He just hadn't had enough time to fully comprehend the new data and reconcile it with his outlook. Now this little 01, this injured and currently debilitated soldier, he was offering his current tentative physical balance as a sacrifice so that 02 could let his old self come through before he expired, so that 02 could find his own mental balance in that short time.

The man felt pure marvel at the inherent strength contained in the young soldier. Even if the boy realized that he would not remember anything, he probably couldn't fully grasp the concept. It was astounding to 02 that the boy would make that sort of selfless decision.

Turning away from the room, and away from the peacefully sleeping Heero, 02 recognized that he would need to be the one to prepare himself for the next few days. He had so many issues that he needed to work out, some of which were founded, others of which were only logical in the sphere of his own mind. 02 knew that he had been lying to himself...but it had been the only way he had known how to live. Now he must face his delusions in order to be able to heal. 

First he knew he must accept that he was once, and could again be, Duo Maxwell. 

That in and of itself was the biggest obstacle he had to surmount.

For ten years he had worked on putting as many walls as possible between himself and the way he had used to be. He had been driven from sanity, and living as a different person was the only way he had known how to let himself exist outside his own head. By becoming a number, he had negated his old existence and therefore attempted to negate what had happened to him. All along, he must have subconsciously realized that he had been unsuccessful. 

He had always been plagued by his memories, but by pushing them aside he had deluded himself into thinking his method of separation had worked. How utterly human of him.

He told himself this, but he couldn't quite believe it yet. Logic and emotion rarely clasp easily together. 02 saw the truth about himself now, and that was a beginning. He could work with that.

Pacing through the house on an ever-changing route, 02 muddled through his thoughts. So much to consider, so much to reconcile, but what was most important? He honestly did not know.

Suddenly 02 stumbled. He cursed quietly and looked down at his unrolled pants legs. Sighing, 02 hitched the loose waist of his trousers and bent over, making short work of cuffing the bottoms of them up to his ankles. That way they would take longer to unravel. Upon straightening, 02 absently scratched the back of his head. His scars itched, a gnawing sensation that only vaguely permeated his senses.

After another few circuits of the house, 02 realized that he was getting nowhere fast, both literally and figuratively. So he returned to Heero's room.

02 picked up the chair he had knocked over earlier and sank down in it gratefully. He contented himself with watching the slow rise and fall of the soldier's chest, the life there taking on much more meaning than a mere mission. It always had, 02 reflected, but it was only now that he was able to admit it.

The rest of the day passed in a soft blur. When Heero had woken they had eaten again and discussed Trowa's inevitable return; the boy was due back soon. After cleaning up the remains of the small meal, the afternoon was spent in conversation. Their words were halting at first, then flowed into a smooth stream of discourse. Nothing about Heero's offer or 02's confession was discussed; their words were a welcome exercise in random chat and a casual swapping of personal information. They were getting to know each other.

It was the kind of simple rambling discussion in which soldiers and scientist rarely engaged. 

That night when 02 settled down on the floor by Heero's bed, he was awake long after his friend had fallen asleep. His thoughts drifted aimlessly, going in meaningless circles that he hadn't explored for many, many years. He allowed himself basking the luxury of relaxation, both in body and in mind. Instead of ceaseless introspection, 02 fell asleep peacefully, listening to the steady breathing of the boy sleeping in the bed above him.

~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning 02 leisurely let his eyes slide open. Sitting up and stretching his arms, the man glanced over and watched Heero sleep. For an undeterminable amount of time 02 sat quietly and observed, his thoughts circling around the sleeping boy. 02 shifted to a kneeling position, then propped his elbows on the bed frame so that he could lean forward and be fractionally closer to the slumbering soldier. 

The scientist took a deep breath and closed his eyes, only to open them again abruptly. Poor Heero, the boy absolutely reeked of bandages and body odor. Now that he was conceivably out of danger of dying, it would be imperative that 02 get the boy cleaned up. Well, that is, if he consented to the idea.

He decided to ask Heero about it as they ate breakfast. 02 stood carefully, fighting a wave of dizziness as he exited the room. By the time he returned, the soldier was blinking his eyes open and yawning, his fingers twitching slightly as he carefully stretched his arms at his sides.

02 set the light meal down and helped prop Heero up on his pillows. "Morning."

The boy gave a quiet grunt in return, his eyes fixed on the food. "Did this, uh, Trowa buy these supplies?"

"Yes," 02 nodded, reaching a casual hand up to scratch the back of his head. His scars were itching again. "In fact, 'this Trowa,' as you call him, should be returning soon."

"Ah," Heero just said as he carefully ate. Each motion was deliberate, but it was obvious that his strength was slowly beginning to return. 

02 considered the taciturn soldier for a moment, then decided to dive right in. "So, do you feel like trying to take a bath?"

A single thick eyebrow raised in amusement. "Are you suggesting that I stink?"

"Well..." the man drawled for a second, then grinned slightly. "Yes."

A sudden bark of laughter erupted from Heero's lips, followed immediately by a quiet groan. "It hurts to laugh."

02 forced himself to remain silent, but soon found himself fighting the inexplicable impulse not to laugh himself. He and Heero stared at each other for a bare second before bursting into quiet laughter together. 

They were going to be all right.

When they finished their respective meals their conversation continued, moving with the lighter tones of revealed secrets and little quirks that true friends just seem to know. The knowledge that time was running out and that all would be erased for 02 probably spurred their conversation into deeper, more intimate subjects, but neither party let that motivation dig too harshly into their minds. They took it as an unspoken agreement not to discuss their deadline, nor the heavy implications of it. 

Then, after they both felt comfortable, 02 found himself carefully helping Heero to the safe house's small bathroom. After gently settling the boy down to lean against a wall, seating him on a folded towel, 02 ran a shallow bath. He would have preferred to administer a sponge bath, but they were without the necessary supplies. Therefore, this careful undertaking would have to do.

Staring at the small pool of tepid water, the scientist found himself at a loss for words. Rationally, he knew the many ramifications this act could have, not to mention where it could lead them later. He knew that he would (probably) be able to handle the stress, and knew that Heero would be both physically and mentally prepared for any consequences. But still, 02 stared at the water, unable to make himself turn towards the boy sitting just behind him.

"02," Heero whispered, jarring the man out of his introspection.

"Yes?" He answered, not turning around.

"It will be fine," the boy soldier spoke, his voice echoing through 02's mind.

Slowly the man turned on his haunches, eyes finally tearing away from the bathtub. "You're right."

And so 02 carefully washed him, tending to bandages, bruises, and still scabbing wounds. The activity passed in mutual silence, 02 lost in an ocean of his own thoughts while Heero just dealt with the physical taxation the bath had on his healing body. If either had seriously thought that the bathing would lead to the fulfillment of Heero's offer, then neither had taken into account the full extent of each other's weaknesses; 02's mental and Heero's physical. It was, however, truly an activity of catharsis.

By the time 02 had finished, Heero was exhausted. He hadn't realized just how weak and injured his body had become due to the destruction of Wing. All this pain, come to pass over the press of a button... It was slightly unsettling, as he hadn't really assessed himself as closely as he had thought. It was a wonder he was alive, something that gave the soldier an uneasy feeling. Previously his life had held no real value to him, but faced with all that he had learned about the consequences of his own thwarted death, he was forced to deal with new thoughts on the value of life, especially his own. It was unsettling to see how close he had come to death, even with 02's intervention. 

It gave him a lot to think about as 02 methodically assisted in dressing him in fresh clothing. And what about when he forgot 02? Would he forget all of this, too? Surely he would. Logically, of course he would forget. He would have no choice in the matter. It was a helpless feeling. This man, his poor sad savior, the warped version of Duo...even if Heero managed to help him, what would it matter when time ran out? The soldier firmed his resolve. Even if it wouldn't matter after the deadline, it would matter before, and that was enough. 

As for 02, his thoughts were running in a rapid circuit of realizations. Logical, rational conclusions gained their final pieces of truth, completing the complicated puzzle that had been scattered by 02's trip backwards through time. There it was, and there it would be, even after he was gone. Heero was truly alive, and truly forgave him. 

02 felt the split in his mind begin to come together. While efficiently cleansing the boy, 02's mind had gone through its own purging. Things were coming together for him, gelling in his mind as he finished completely with Heero and carried him back to the room. After changing the bed sheets, he laid the teenager out on the bed, blinking for a second at his suddenly cleaner vision.

As 02 watched, Heero had dropped into a tired sleep. Leaving the soldier to rest, 02 wandered about the house, preparing their limited supplies for Trowa's return. He cleaned the small bathroom, letting his psyche continue to congeal together as he scrubbed at almost nonexistent dirt. Finally he stopped, satisfied, and sat down on the floor.

His scalp **itched**.

Reaching up, 02 removed the small band from his short ponytail and ruffled it, scratching at the scars there. He had barely touched the puckered area when he felt something come loose from the deadened skin and flake onto his fingers. A slight look of revulsion passed over his face and he scratched again, hard. As his nails came in contact with the tissue, more little flakes came showering down onto the back of his neck.

02 stood up and looked in the small mirror over the sink, simultaneously picking up a tiny hand mirror from the counter and turning so he could see his back reflected in the hand mirror. Carefully he moved his shoulder length hair aside and looked to see what was flaking off of his scalp. Surely it wasn't dandruff. He almost dropped the hand mirror when he saw what was peeling from his head.

It was his scars. His scars were flaking away. In fact, a dusting of short, fine hair was starting to grow in places that had been scarred and bald for almost ten years.

02's knees felt weak and he leaned heavily back against the edge of the bathroom counter. In some corner of his mind he noticed that the knuckles of his fingers that clutched the hand mirror were red and white from pressure. The plastic handle on the mirror was threatening to break. He loosened his grip and took a few deep breaths.

What did it mean? Could he be physically regressing as well? Was that why his clothes suddenly felt larger? What else could it be? It was completely illogical, though...but then, how was he to know what really made sense? Did that mean that his mental regression had truly been out of his hands, that his changes had come from science rather than himself? It was disturbing in ways that 02 was unprepared for. He had to be sure that this was indeed physical regression.

Experimentally, 02 scratched at the back of his head again. His hand was shaking. Sure enough, scar tissue flaked away underneath his fingernails. It was unsettling to watch. 

02 turned slowly around and stared at himself in the larger mirror, setting the hand mirror down deliberately. For a long moment he just watched his eyes, trying to see if he had changed in other ways. He was unable to tell. He had made a habit of not looking in mirrors since...since Duo, no, since **he** had been traumatized. 

But why the sudden changes now? Perhaps, 02 thought, it was because he was getting closer to the deadline. Could his body finally be reacting to the changes that time had wreaked on him for challenging its dominance? He wished futilely that he and his fellow scientists had considered such possibilities before, so that he would have more information with which to rationalize them with himself. But then, would that information truly have made a difference? Would it have stopped them from creating their portal and sending a traveler? Of course not. So what else could he do about these changes, other than live with them? Nothing. Nothing at all.

So be it. There was nothing to be done about the deterioration of his body. It was his mind on which he needed to focus his attention. For a long moment 02 wondered if he would have been so comparatively unconcerned about these physical developments if it weren't for the mental deterioration that had manifested first. 

...Oh, but what if it was the degeneration of his body, and therefore his physical **brain** , that had caused him to change his perspective on life so drastically? Barely two weeks prior, 02 knew that he would have been relatively overjoyed at the possibility that it was not his fault his mind had so deteriorated...but now he felt differently. 

It hurt. 

He desperately needed to believe that at least some of his steps back towards his old self had been his own. Then another, more painful thought occurred to him. Could it be...could it be that the interaction with Heero had nothing to do with his changes? 

No, 02 shook his head and looked away from the mirror. The mental changes did start it, and Heero had a lot to do with that. 02 also knew that he had made many decisions that had nothing to do with the mental deterioration...but the doubt lingered. He shoved it away. He knew that even if the physical deterioration had caused his mental changes, he himself had taken those changes further. That was that.

Besides, reasons "why" were not important anymore. 02 straightened his back and looked hard at himself in the mirror. The physical deterioration, unless it debilitated him, would be irrelevant. Decision made.

He left the bathroom and headed for Heero's room and his own pallet on the floor. Maybe if he took a nap he'd feel less confused. If he was regressing physically, was that why he was getting dizzy all the time? Or was it because he was beginning to fade already?

02 wished that he knew more about the traveling process. But then, had he met a time traveler from his own future, wouldn't he just have forgotten anyway? It was mildly depressing. 

So many questions, so little answers. 

He stared at the edge of Heero's mattress above him, feeling his mind and body begin to relax when the bed frame shuddered before his eyes. 02 sat up slowly and peered horizontally over at the boy's profile, witnessing the rapid eye movement that signaled Heero's dream state. He was having a nightmare, obviously.

02 worried his lower lip as he stared over at the agitated soldier. After only a moment's hesitation he crawled up onto the bed beside Heero and gently hugged him, ever mindful of the youth's injuries. The scientist sighed quietly as the boy stopped quaking and settled down, becoming a warm comfort against his chest. 

Against his better judgement he felt himself begin to unwillingly relax, strangely content with the world.

~ ~ ~ ~

A blank time later 02 felt oddly unsettled and a little too warm as he woke from his un-habitual nap. As his eyes blinked slowly open he forced his senses back down into calm readiness as he realized why; he had fallen asleep while still holding onto Heero. It was nice, but necessary for him to move now. It wasn't his place, after all. It wasn't his place.

"No," Heero whispered as 02 started to sit up. "Just stay if you want to."

So 02 settled back down. Suddenly feeling very awkward, he just hugged the boy's prone body carefully to his own again, feeling the warmth of his life through their thin layers of clothes and bed sheets. Warmth, so different from his own chill...

Finally 02 found something to say. "Have you recovered from earlier?"

"As well as can be expected," came the quiet answer.

"Ah," the scientist grunted back, once again left with the urgent need to say something, to divert the attention away from just how close they were lying together on the narrow bed. He hadn't been that close to anyone, willingly, in ten years. The thought brought him a phantom lingering pain in his chest. It quickly faded.

"I'm going to be fine," Heero abruptly announced into the still room. He craned his head sideways on the pillow to look at 02. "And I've decided that I'm going to protect you."

02 raised an eyebrow and pulled back so that their heads were further apart. His heart twisted in gratitude at Heero's words, but his tone was playfully sarcastic. "Oh, and which me are you going to protect?"

He then relaxed his neck again so that their faces were once again only a few inches apart. 

Their breath mingled. Warmth again.

"You're the same person," the soldier whispered.

"Are we?" the scientist's voice was pained.

The silence was thick.

"You can be," Heero breathed, then shifted over that last few inches and brought their lips together.

Both had their eyes open as the kiss initiated, but as it progressed they both felt themselves become caught in the sensation. 02, ever wary of Heero's injuries, rolled onto his side and leaned closer, gently responding to the movements of the younger man's lips, letting him have dominance even though 02 was the one leaning down and pressing him into the pillow. After a long breathless moment, 02 pulled back.

"Are you all right?" He asked.

"Yes," Heero replied, annoyance tingeing his voice. "I'll be fine. I can't believe I'm the one that's having to say this, but you're going to have to relax. I won't break."

"But--" 02 started, confusion clear on his face as he sat up. "I don't really see how it's going to work."

"How what's going to work?" Heero struggled to prop himself up on one elbow.

"Well..." the scientist took a deep breath and scratched the back of his head. He felt positively young again, being so sheepish. Well, he **was** only 25. "How are we going to do this when you can barely stand up on your own? You're not going to be able to do much, and I don't mean that to be offensive."

"I figured you were going to do all the work," the boy stated bluntly, his voice calm despite the slight coloring of his cheeks. "I thought that would be best not only on your mind, but on my injuries, as long as we were careful."

"Oh," 02 whispered. He knew that his expression was probably priceless. It was so strange, doing this. It was the last thing he would have ever thought would have happened on this mission, but then, maybe destiny had different plans all along. It would certainly seem so. But then, 02 didn't believe in destiny, right? Right?

"Trust me?"

"I always have."

And so they began. 02 dipped his head and let his heart speak for him in their kiss. Nothing was mechanical about it, just raw feelings expressed in a simple gesture. Progressing downward, 02 paid tribute to every inch of exposed skin he could find, his mind consumed with the singular desire to see and taste and touch the life before him. Everything in his own life had brought him to this moment, everything in his existence had been for now.

There was a blur of time and soft cries. 02 found himself cradling Heero's uninjured hand, holding it reverently before him. For the longest moment he stared at the hand, at the fine network of muscle and bone and life encased in such an efficient, yet somehow delicate, package. The pulse beating rapidly, barely felt in the small veins that ran along its back. 

Marveling at the way his attention made Heero's heart race and his breath quicken, 02 shifted his gaze from the hand to Heero's slightly glazed blue eyes. They were watching him, witnessing his every movement. And yes, beneath the lust, the need, the love, and the genuine affection, there was fear. 02 felt his heart wrench. Holding Heero's gaze, he worshipped the hand.

First he pressed gentle lips to the palm, watching as heavy eyelids drooped closed and a shudder wracked the boy's frame. Carefully, 02 turned his attention to each finger, dropping dry little kisses on each fingertip, veneration and homage built into every minute gesture. Then he stopped, his own heart thudding a rapid cadence within his chest as he waited for Heero to open his eyes again.

Finally, after a long, intoxicating moment Heero did, dark blue eyes staring up at 02 with wonderment. Their gazes locked, and 02 slowly took the index finger into his mouth. First knuckle, and Heero's eyes went almost impossibly wide. Second knuckle, and both their breathing was coming in short, shallow pants. The whole finger, and Heero was arching off of the bed, his bandaged hand twitching against the sheets underneath him.

And so 02 worshiped Heero's hand, then, slowly, ever so slowly, paid his homage to every bit of warm, breathing, living part of Heero he could safely touch without fear of injuring him. The soldier, the selfless boy, was reduced to a wreck of shuddering nerves and tender skin by the time his body was fully worshipped by the man, and when the final moment, the sheathing of their bodies and souls came, it was a divine experience for them both.

In 02's mind, everything came together. Something intangible grew and burst in his soul at their joining, destiny and time coming together in a single brilliant moment of completion. The broken circle of his life came together. 

02 threw his head back and wept, his voice merging with his partner's as he accepted the divine gift Heero had offered him. 02 felt himself mercifully slipping away. He knew he'd be back...but... 

02 closed his eyes and let Duo breathe. If only for a moment...

~ ~ ~ ~

### The Cadence of Time: Movement 7

**The Fading Strains, A Requiem**

The next morning when the scientist woke he was still sharing Heero's small bed. 02 was unsure of what to make of himself. Yesterday's events had been incredible in their combined revelations, activities, and catharses. Truly, 02 was a new man. But who was this new man? 02 didn't know the answer to that question. 

He sighed and diverted his attention away from his introspection for the moment and shifted it to the bandaged soldier he still held carefully in his arms. 02 reflected on what had happened between them. After they had...02 felt a swell of warmth in his chest at the memory...after...he had cleaned his lover with the utmost gentle care and respect. After dressing, they spent the rest of the day in quiet contemplation and conversation, lying together on Heero's bed. 02 had only left the room to prepare food. 

So, what had Heero taught him? Ten years ago, 02 had tried to teach this same Heero how to balance life, but instead 02 took away a faulty lesson that had all but killed his heart. The man had thought he was honoring the soldier's memory but was unwittingly sullying it instead. Now, after so much had happened, this boy, his Heero, had offered 02 a chance at redemption. To stray so far and yet be invited to come back...02 owed Heero so much. 

The scientist felt shame at what he had become over the years: a cold, merciless number that took his solace in vengeance and tried to murder his past. He had become the opposite of the balance he had once held important, but at least now he could look back on the past ten years with a new perspective, that of his old self. He had gained that sight again. 02 knew who he was underneath all the pain. 

Yet he knew that he was no longer worthy of the name Duo Maxwell. He would not disgrace that bright person with what he had become. 02 knew that he had changed too much to really be able to go back, but instead took solace in the balance he was finding between his past and present. A new balance, a different balance, but a balance nonetheless.

02 accepted this. He knew that he could not return to the identity of his youth; he could never forget his comrades or the war he had fought after he had become a number. His past was a part of him. Truly, wiping away those ten years would also be a crime. To forget 03, 04, and 05 by taking his old name would be forsaking them. Their combined cause had been won, their years of agony had been worth the effort, but 02 could not let go of their memory. Just as he had taken the name Duo from Solo, and Maxwell from the Church, he would remain 02 for his past and his comrades.

Besides, he was used to that name by now. 02 let a small, cynical smile sneak onto his face as he felt Heero's breathing pattern change slightly. The boy was waking up.

~ ~ ~ ~

Later that day Trowa returned, driving a borrowed car instead of the large transport truck he had used for his Gundam. Less than an hour after his arrival passed before they were on the road headed for the circus's current location. The trip lasted the rest of the day, through the evening, and toiled into the dark of the early morning. 02 took shifts at the wheel after studying the map of their chosen route. The entire time Heero slept stretched out in the backseat while 02 and Trowa shared sparse conversation. 

02 wondered about Heero's suddenly heavy and excessive sleep...there must be something he was missing about these sudden bouts of slumber; the boy was otherwise quite healthy. The scientist decided to worry about it after they arrived at the circus and were settled. After all, sleep wasn't life threatening.

When they finally pulled into the small circus camp in pre-sunrise gloom, 02 realized he had less than 96 hours of existence left. A wave of unsettled dizziness rolled over him at the thought, causing his knees to buckle beneath him as he climbed out the passenger side of the car.

"Are you all right?" Trowa's quiet voice came from the other side of the vehicle.

"Not really," 02 whispered back truthfully. "But give me a minute and I'll be able to pull myself together."

Trowa nodded and turned his attention to the trunk of the car, unloading the limited supplies they had transported from the safe house. While 02 watched, leaning against the side of the vehicle, the quiet soldier unlocked a door in the middle of a trailer and carried the supplies inside somewhere to the right of the doorway. After two trips, the limited bags and boxes were unloaded, and Trowa nodded in the direction of Heero, who was still sleeping deeply in the backseat of the car.

"He hasn't been awake during the entire trip. Do you just want carry him inside rather than try to wake him up now?"

02 shrugged minutely. "Let's just get him inside. If he wakes up while we're carrying him, then we'll see if he really wants to walk. I'd rather just get him inside as quickly as possible, though. He doesn't need to strain himself." 

"All right," Trowa responded, his voice hushed in the dark morning's air. 

Together the two carried Heero inside the small trailer, with Trowa supporting more of the soldier's weight than 02. It was fortunate, because 02 was winded by the time they settled the sleeping boy onto the small cot. He was grateful for the help that Trowa had provided.

02 said as much.

Trowa only nodded again in response and walked to where a short hallway disappeared into the other half of the trailer. He paused and turned to look at 02 for a long moment. "You know, you've changed."

02 was not surprised. "Thank you."

With a final small nod, the pilot left, disappearing down the dark hallway and into another room. The quiet click of metal against the hard plastic molding of the doorframe echoed through the still space for a moment. Evidently this was the "living room" of Trowa's own designated trailer. That was good.

02 looked around the small single room. It was lined with shelves that appeared to shut tightly, designed specifically for travel efficiency, not luxury. Everything had its designated place, it seemed. A vid-set was even attached amongst the cabinets on the wall opposite the bed. 

02 stood up and drew the light curtains over the three small windows as he continued his survey. A chair was buckled with leather straps to the wall beside one of the long rows of drawers that went from the ceiling to the floor, presumably so that it wouldn't damage anything while the trailer was moving. The chair hadn't been visible until 02 had looked directly at the shadowed space. For some reason, that detail struck him as mildly amusing. He wasn't sure why.

02 wondered if Trowa had told anyone about Heero and himself, if their presence at the circus was supposed to be secretive. He supposed that Trowa would have told him if that were the case. Besides, 02 reflected with a bitter smile, if this time's Trowa really **had** managed to save Heero's life single handedly, he would have brought the boy here for recovery anyway. Thus time was reasserting itself, trying to smooth its way despite 02's meddling. With this in mind, his own presence would be arbitrary because he was going to be forgotten anyway. Like puff of smoke dissipating in the wind...

Would that be how he went? Gone like a puff of smoke? Would he blink and never open his eyes again? Or would he simply fade away? Would it hurt? 02 entertained a few morbid thoughts on his nonexistence before pushing them aside. What did it matter? It's not as though he'd have time to know the answers once it had happened. 

02 lazily looked down at Heero, who was slumbering on the hard cot Trowa had provided. In the corner, the scientist noticed, there was a neatly folded sleeping bag. Maybe he'd used it, but probably not. He didn't think Heero would mind sharing. It's not as though he'd remember...95 hours left...

The scientist shook his head angrily, trying to shake the negative thoughts out of his head but only succeeding in making himself dizzy. Groaning, he sat down at the edge of the cot and ran a finger down the bandages lining one of Heero's arms. As his fingertips caught the edges of the gauze and smoothed over the cottony material, he told himself to focus on the now, because there wasn't much of it left. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, 02 took a deep breath as he lay down beside the sleeping soldier. He carefully wrapped one arm around the boy's waist and settled down, trying desperately to quell the weird emptiness that had suddenly flooded his mind. He held onto Heero as tight as he dared, once again putting off thinking about why the soldier was sleeping so much. 

02 was tired.

He sent up a prayer, not knowing anymore who to address it to, so he just let his mind drift out aimlessly. Hope and pain and need twined together; the man suddenly found himself wondering what would happen after his body ceased its existence. 02 had often heard that in the face of death, even an atheist prays...Mortality and the thought of nothingness were heavy things to consider, after all. 

What would it be like not to exist? Some scientists would say that the idea of an afterlife is merely an attempt to cushion the blow of death, to soften the idea of not existing anymore. It was a monstrous concept to consider, after all...not **being**. 

So what did he think? 02 wasn't sure, be he found it hard to believe that "nothing" could really exist. A contradiction in terms indeed, but hadn't he already considered this? Was it hope, willing naivete, fear, or something else that had sparked this train of thought?

As he drifted off to sleep, his attention ambled towards the memory of a young orphan, "There is no God, Sister Helen...I think the only God in this world is the God of Death..."

02 felt his smile grow and immediately fade. He hadn't even considered the possibility of any God, of Death or otherwise, in such a long time...so why now? 

Was there a God of Time? 

Did it matter? He'd see soon enough.

02 wondered what would happen when Time judged him...what would happen to his soul? Did he even still have one? Did it matter? Did it truly matter?

He wasn't sure.

~ ~ ~ ~

Sunlight was streaming merrily around the edges of the curtains when 02 woke to the sound of a quiet knock at the trailer door. Before the scientist could gather enough of his dwindling energy to sit up and answer it, their visitor opened the door and slipped in, carefully balancing a tray of food between her hand and her jutting hip. 02 wondered if it pinched the woman's skin; she was wearing a pair of shorts and a short top, so the metal of the tray was digging into the bare skin of her waist.

"Hello, um, 02 is it?" She asked politely, despite the definite wariness that wrinkled her brow. The young woman unlatched a small table from its place tucked in a closed compartment and set the tray of food down carefully on top of it. That done, she stood back and studied the now fully awake scientist even as he continued to study her.

02 realized that she was waiting for him to respond. "Oh, yes. I am 02. And you?" He inquired, even though he knew that she must be Catherine Bloom. 

Trowa had revealed precious little information about the circus, but the pilot had referred to this girl in passing. Not to mention the information his comrade 03 had divulged in his time. Evidently she had taken Trowa under her wing when he had first arrived at the circus, and although the boy didn't say it in so many words, it was clear that he appreciated it. In his time, 03 had even remembered the girl, on the rare occasions when the scientists had held casual conversation about their pasts, he had sometimes mentioned her. 

02 wondered how this young woman would affect this Trowa, now. In 02's timeline, 03 had already lost use of his legs and would never have seen her again. It was then that 02 realized how deeply the actions of he and his fellow scientists had influenced people.

"I'm Catherine," She smiled warily, obviously still gauging 02. Her clear eyes flickered back from the scientist to the soldier still sleeping on the bed. "Is he okay with you sharing his bed?"

Hmm...perhaps that was the reason for her distrust. 02 forced his smile to remain nonthreatening. "He invited me."

"Oh," Catherine nodded, curls bouncing against her cheek as she processing the information. 02 could tell this teenager was sharp, very sharp. "Well, I brought you two something to eat, since Trowa got up earlier and had something. If you need anything, Trowa's asleep again, in the last room of this trailer, and my trailer's door is right across from the door of this one."

She paused, then crossed her arms over her chest. "Everyone around here is pretty friendly, and as long as you don't bring people in here shooting at us, we know how to keep our mouths shut."

02 nodded. Well, he hadn't been expecting her to be so frank with him, but it was appreciated. He wondered if little 05 had gotten the same speech only a short while (in this timeline) ago when he was staying with Trowa. "That's fine. Thank you for your hospitality, Catherine."

She flashed him a genuine, but sad smile as she uncrossed her arms. "Your welcome. I hope he gets better soon." With a final glance past 02 at the still sleeping Heero, she deliberately turned her back and walked out, closing the door with a quiet but sound click.

As soon as the door was shut, the soldier's eyes fluttered open. "02? Are we at Trowa's circus?"

"Yes," the man confirmed, twisting around to gaze down at Heero. It was strange how he had woken at the exact moment Catherine had left...

Best not to think about it.

Day turned into night.

72 hours left.

~ ~ ~ ~

After 02 and Heero had eaten, the scientist filled the teenager in on their new location. Then they turned on the vid-set to the news, as neither of them had any idea what was going on in the world since Heero's failed self-destruction. 

Before long they turned the set off again. In less than ten minutes of watching, 02 was sure that the war would continue for some time. It was already changing, right before his eyes. Global scale. 

Heero realized that he wouldn't remember the information after 02's expiration, but he did not voice this out loud. With that thought, however, he realized that for the next three days he had the opportunity to truly forget the war and focus on something else. It wouldn't matter, because he would forget everything.

So the vid-set was soon turned off, although neither the soldier nor the scientist told the other their reason for not wanting to continue watching it. Some things, although mutually known, are better left unsaid. 

Soon after, Heero fell back asleep and Catherine came back to see if they had eaten the food she had left for them. Trowa emerged while the two were talking, and he offered to show 02 the lay of the camp. The scientist accepted the boy's offer only after Catherine promised to stay and watch Heero.

~ ~ ~ ~

"I've never seen lions before," 02 commented as Trowa reached through the bars of the cage and petted one of the large felines. 

Trowa looked up and let a very tiny grin ghost across his face for a moment. He nodded, then shifted over to pet another lion. The large animal purred, the deep rumble shaking the soles of 02's shoes as he knelt down beside Trowa. Slowly, carefully, the scientist eased a hand between the bars, letting the lion Trowa had first petted sniff his hand. Then he leaned in further, cautiously petting the animal's soft tawny fur.

The big lion purred.

~ ~ ~ ~

That evening 02 and Heero were alone again. After 02 had returned from Trowa's tour of the campground, Catherine and he had left. Perhaps to practice? 02 realized as the door closed behind the pair that he had no idea what, besides acrobatics, Trowa could do in the circus. 

He knew from 03 that Trowa had been a performer, but just what his role in the circus had been had never come up. 02 felt a sudden ache in his chest at the thought; despite ten years in each other's company, they had not truly known each other. Their work had consumed them, and despite the ability to work together and communicate with an eerie group consciousness, only a few scraps of excessive personal details filtered through. They had not been friends, just fellow scientists; they were companions who had shared a cause. The realization made him long for what could have been. 

But now he must focus on what **was**. Now. He supposed that whatever Trowa did, it was of no real consequence to 02. 

The scientist turned his attention to Heero. He was waking up. Again, just after the others had left...could it be that Heero would never be coherent around other people until he was **supposed** to wake up? 02 remembered how the boy had faded in and out of consciousness before they had managed to get him to the safe house. Had Trowa been around for those bouts? 02 found that he couldn't remember, but it seemed as though Heero was awake only for 02 at this point in time. Was 02 the only one to see Heero conscious now because he was an outsider in this time? If so, then had destiny already decided a new course of action? Why had it not chosen a new path before now? 

02 massaged the bridge of his nose, willing away the pain that had commenced to lance across his forehead in hot bursts of agony. Maybe he was overanalyzing things. Thinking this much was actually starting to hurt him. 

By this time, Heero was struggling to prop himself up on his elbows. "What's wrong?"

02 smiled. "Nothing."

~ ~ ~ ~

Less than 48 hours left, and 02 was starting to feel different. He couldn't help wondering if it was his imagination. As dawn edged fingers of sunlight between the cracks of the drawn curtains, 02 rose from slumber feeling unsettled. He let his gaze linger for a moment on Heero's sleeping face before rising from the bed. They had slept sharing the small cot, nothing more. 

Anything more would have been unnecessary at this point.

The scientist walked soundlessly across the floor of the trailer, the coolness of the hard floor seeping into the soles of his bare feet and causing him to shudder. Trowa had let him borrow a pair of old cotton shorts and a shirt to sleep in. It was a nice gesture. Before, he had been using his day clothing. 

02 carefully opened up the door to the tiny bathroom and squeezed himself inside. After performing the morning's routine functions, he finally acknowledged the existence of a small hand mirror tucked into a wall slot by the small sink. 02 had avoided mirrors studiously since he had discovered the disappearing of his scars. But now...he was curious.

So 02 deliberately picked up the mirror, keeping the reflective surface turned away from view for a long moment. 02 closed his eyes and ground his teeth together. Then he took a deep breath and turned it so that it pointed towards his face. He opened his eyes.

He had no reflection.

02 dropped the mirror. It bounced off the edge of the small sink basin and tumbled end over end until it shattered on the floor. 

The scientists fell to his knees amongst the shards of broken silver glass, cutting himself. With shaking hands he picked up a large shard of the broken mirror and brought it to his face again.

There he was! He had a reflection! He **did**! 

Maybe he hadn't held the mirror correctly the first time. 

Maybe it had been his imagination. 

Maybe...

02 desperately tried to convince himself as he cleaned up the broken remains of the mirror. His knees dripped blood onto the floor. They burned as the small wounds tore with his movement.

If he could feel pain, he must still exist, right?

Right?

02 finished dumping the shards of broken glass into the small wastebasket he had found beside the toilet, smearing blood on the floor. Thick red droplets, fat wells of crimson pain.

He had imagined it. He had. 

02 stood up, almost convinced that he had been in error the first time he looked in the mirror. He leaned against the edge of the small sink and tipped his head backwards, feeling tendrils of uncombed hair brush against the back of his neck at the movement. 

Calmed, he straightened his back and squared his shoulders. He still had to clean up the blood he had dripped on the floor, the blood from his still stinging knees. 

There was no blood on the floor.

Breath hitching in his throat, he looked down at the slot beside the sink. The mirror sat there, unassuming and in one piece. With shaking hands, 02 picked up the wastebasket. There were no broken shards of glass. No evidence.

It was the beginning of the end.

~ ~ ~ ~

02 ignored the rising sun and returned to bed. He spent the rest of the day at Heero's side, watching the boy sleep when Catherine or Trowa entered the room, and watching him wake up again when they left. 02 tried not to think about things and failed miserably. Time passed.

The scientist finally went outside to watch the sunset, leaving Catherine in front of the vid-set in Heero's room. After a short walk that made him weak and rather dizzy, he found a soft grassy hill that had a decent view. When he sank to the ground, 02 found that he was out of breath from the climb up the hill. He shrugged and leaned back against his hands and watched the sun set.

After the fiery orb dipped below the line of trees that broke the horizon, 02 sighed. It had been beautiful.

He only had one more sunrise and one more sunset left. He looked up at the stars and the waning moon once twilight had faded into darkness. His last complete night. 

When 02 stood up to leave, he noticed that he had left no imprint in the springy grass. 

He smiled. He couldn't do anything about it.

~ ~ ~ ~

The 24 hour marked passed as he slept. When 02 woke, he found that he had trouble sitting up. Faintly, he registered that he had missed sunrise, and a glance at the clock showed that he had less than 12 hours left. Undesirable, yet it was done. Oh well, he had never really liked mornings anyway. 02 felt the ghost of a smile find its way to his lips.

So, this was the last day of his life? So be it. 02 gasped, suddenly feeling short of breath. He felt hallucinations grip him as the fabric of his mind began to unravel. A vision of a new Wing, was it? Huh? What? Was time changing? What **was** that? He was seeing things...

02 blinked and fought to regain his presence of mind. The future of this world was out of his hands, but why were these images shattering his composure this late in the game? Was time's ripple finally moving forth, finally ripping him apart? Would he leave this plane early? No! The images ceased for a moment and he caught his breath. Maybe these side effects, these hallucinations, maybe they were over. 

02 glanced over beside him at Heero's slumbering form. Another hallucination gripped his vision. A half-crazed and very young 04, cradling an unconscious Heero and feeding the pilot water...in space? What the hell was going on? 

02 gripped his hair in frustration, tugging and yanking on the strands harshly. Pain. Clarity. The hallucinations were so vivid...

Wait! His hair felt...different.

The scientist stumbled out of the bed and to the trailer's tiny bathroom, yanking the little mirror from its slot in the wall. With wide, wild eyes he focused on his reflection, happy to find it there, but almost shocked into losing his balance by what he saw. His hair had grown while he slept, tumbling down past his shoulders and halfway down his back. 02 forced his hands to grip the plastic handle of the tiny mirror so he wouldn't drop it. Carefully, he placed it back in its slot.

02 sank to his knees on the cold floor. He noticed that there was no sting from the wounds he had received the day before. Easing his legs out from under him, he checked them for injury. Just as he suspected, the myriad of jagged cuts had already healed. Strange side effect, but 02 decided he had other things to consume his mind at the moment. 

Understatement. Sarcasm. 02 snorted.

The man curled his fingers carefully and brought them up to the back of his neck, easing them into his hairline. His scars were completely gone. As 02 combed carefully through his now longer hair, he watched in fascination as a few lengthy strands slipped out from between his shaking fingers. The bits of hair disappeared from existence as they fell to the floor of the trailer, literally fading out of sight between 02's blinks. 

He did not see them disappear, but they were gone nevertheless. 

No evidence would remain of his passing. 

02 lifted an eyebrow and laughed quietly. At least he had his answer to how he would depart the world. He'd go between blinks. It wasn't very comforting, but at least he knew. At least he knew.

Between blinks...

Yes. It was somehow fitting. Physically, at least, it would be painless.

Between blinks.

Letting out a sigh of resignation and slight amusement at his own acquiescence, the scientist climbed to his feet and stood on shaky legs. He wouldn't be able to go wandering around the camp too much today; he didn't think his cells would be cohesive enough to carry him around. He was falling apart. He didn't mind his lack of mobility, though. 02 would rather spend the day watching Heero sleep. He tried to focus his thoughts on the young soldier.

With a certainty that should have shaken him, but somehow did not, 02 knew that Heero would only wake in the last hour of his existence. The scientist would have one last chance to talk to the person that had been the center of his life for ten years. 02 wasn't sure how or why he knew this, but he knew that it was the truth. 

This in mind, 02 made use of the bathroom and went back to his part of the bed. As soon as he settled down, he felt sleep begin to take him. Paradoxically, he was grateful for the distraction but reluctant to spend his last day of life asleep, so 02 fought to keep his eyes open. Then he was struck with another hallucination, and he was lost within himself. 

Time had other plans for him. It seemed the ripple was influencing him in ways that were completely unforeseen. As a scientist, he must explore these latent effects. As a traveler, he had no choice but to succumb to them. A strange side effect to have at this point, 02 could only let the hallucinations take him. Perhaps...perhaps...they could impart some wisdom, some hope, just maybe act as a...comfort to him? So be it. It wasn't as though he had much of a choice anyway.

02 closed his eyes and let the visions come to him, riding the rippling tide of time.

~ ~ ~ ~

He didn't rise again until after nightfall. A glance at a clock told him he had approximately 6 hours of existence left. He should have been afraid. He wasn't.

02 sat up and looked at the plate of food sitting out on a tray by the vid-set. A single plate. Evidently Catherine, like Trowa, did not believe that Heero had moments of wakefulness. 02 considered it from their point of view: if they never saw the soldier awake, why would they believe it? Catherine shouldn't have to bring twice the food. Between them, they had only eaten off of one plate anyway. 02 realized that he had been feeding Heero off of his own platter. He had subconsciously been playing time's game. How convenient for time, he thought sardonically.

02 had given up a lot of his illusions about control. He **did** have free will that had the power to shape time, but after a certain point things had to go a certain way for sanity's sake. ..Or maybe not. Maybe he had been acting a certain way out of sheer coincidence. ...Or maybe it was his subconscious acting out so it could torment him later. Little Duo's revenge? Had Duo been sadistic? Or masochistic? 02 wasn't sure.

He fought down a laugh. He was quarreling with himself now. It was a pointless argument. The truth was, none of these thoughts mattered. Even if he did come to a concrete conclusion, he would cease to exist, and his conclusion would go with him. So...well...oh, fuck it. Did his subconscious like to cuss as well? Perhaps. How morbidly amusing.

02 shrugged and ate some of his food, saving the rest for when Heero woke up later. 

He would, of course. He had to wake up. Just a few minutes before 02 ceased. Certainty again.

A few minutes later, Catherine walked in. A look of relief washed over her face when she saw 02 sitting up at the edge of the bed and holding the plate of food. Her thin fingers clenched white-knuckled at the cuffs of her shorts. "You're finally up." 

"Yeah. Thanks for the food. For everything," 02 said, pausing. He wondered if Trowa had filled the young lady in on his interesting condition. From the nervous look on her face, it was a definite maybe. The scientist decided to see how much she knew. "Do you know that I'll be leaving your company tonight?"

"Trowa mentioned something about that," She nodded, her fingers uncurling from the legs of her shorts and coming up in front of her. She clasped her hands together, wringing them. "He made it sound as though you were going to die."

02 felt something within him laugh. Why not give her the truth? "I am."

Catherine's hands dropped to her sides suddenly. Her jaw dropped slightly. "What?"

"I am going to die. Sort of. I don't know how much Trowa told you, but I'm a time traveler of sorts. I was sent from the future, Catherine, and my time here is about to run out. Sit down, and I'll tell you the whole story. You've been very kind, a good host and all, and you deserve the truth," 02 said matter-of-factly, keeping his voice even and his eyes steady. 

Catherine sat down in the long fold out couch they had moved in front of the vid-set, turning sideways to stare at 02. "Very funny."

"Indeed, if it was a joke, it would be," 02 laughed lightly, beginning his story, leaving out the unnecessary gory details. She didn't need to hear about how he burned that bunker of Oz soldiers alive, for instance. That could have been a mood killer.

Catherine appeared to believe him, but only after she had went over the facts from every single angle and had him pull out a few hairs and watch them disappear. Then she thanked him for trusting her with the truth, and then hit him over the top of the head (but not too hard) for waiting so long to tell it to her. 

By this time, Trowa had entered the trailer and was leaning casually against the entrance to the hallway, arms crossed. "Here's what I want to know: why bother telling us any of this? I understand the necessity of telling **me** on the way back from the mission, because Heero's life was in danger, but why bother telling Cathy all of this now? What's the point, 02?"

02 shrugged. "It was the right thing to do. She deserved to know the truth, as did you. It doesn't matter that you'll both forget. For the time being, you'll know."

Trowa nodded. "I'll accept that." He pushed away from the wall and disappeared deeper into the trailer. 02 heard the door to his room click quietly closed.

"So, 02," Catherine started, hesitating for a few seconds before continuing in one quick breath. "Do you know what happened to me? In the future, I mean?"

  
The scientist glanced downwards before looking back up and meeting her gaze. "No. I'm sorry, but you must understand that our focus became solely on the missions. But...please, don't worry about it. Your future is yours to make, even if I knew what it would have been...I would have changed that by coming back and being here."

02 blinked, remembering something he had seen in his hallucinations. A simple fabrication while his mind started to break...but the wisdom of the visions could not be discounted. He decided to speak and go with his instincts. "Catherine...you're going to have to watch Trowa very carefully. I have a feeling he's going to need you. He, in my time, didn't have any family at all. Maybe you can be his family now?"

The young woman blinked slowly, a smile spreading across her face. "I had planned on it."

The scientist smiled back. "Good."

For a long moment they sat there, just smiling at each other, before Catherine visibly shook herself and stood up. "I'll just clear away this tray of food. I know you said that Heero wakes up when we're not here, but..."

"Just leave it, I'll eat some more later," 02 waved his hand tiredly. Despite it all, she still didn't believe that Heero was waking up. That was okay. It was to be expected. 

"All right then," She smiled again, this time with less brilliance and more melancholy coloring the expression. "I'll be back later," Her breath hitched. "To say good bye."

"Thank you."

Then she was gone; the door to the outside night clicked shut softly in her wake. 02 let out a sigh of partial relief. Catherine was a nice, wonderful person, but in his weakened state her slightly forceful personality was tiring to be around. That's just the way she was, though, nothing to hold against her.

02 looked at the clock again, opening the window as he did so. A little over 4 hours were left. Tick, tick, tick, he thought sourly. Despite it all, he almost wished time would hurry by. All his life had been leading up to this last moment. All who are conceived will die. He was just going to go out in a creative way. 

He would die, expire, cease to be; he was no different than any other living creature, except in the method. Maybe. After all, if anyone else had ever traveled backwards in time and went out this way, it wasn't as though he'd know it. Even if he had known such a traveler, he'd have forgotten that person when his or her time had ran out. It was morbid, to know that no one would know he had ever existed. But maybe this time's Duo would be better, anyway. No one would miss 02. No one would mourn him. It was a selfish thought, but he didn't want to be forgotten. Damnit. 02 didn't care anymore! At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

An hour passed. The curtains moved with the wind that passed in through the open window.

Trowa came out of his room.

"I just wanted to...thank you," the boy said, his one visible eye boring into 02's own. "And to ask you a few things."

Of course.

"Well, first of all, you're welcome," 02 forced his smile. He appreciated the gratitude, but he was starting to truly become afraid as his time started to run out. And here he had thought he was ready! "What did you want to know?"  
  
"Um," Trowa bit his lower lip. The gesture looked strange on the normally stoic boy's face. 02 raised an eyebrow. "What's with your hair? Why the physical changes? Do you know?"

"I don't know, honestly. I can only guess that it's time catching up with me. You won't remember me if you ever get to meet Duo, that's the 'me' of your time, but he has hair that is much longer, down past his waist. I don't think that my hair is going to catch up with that length, but it sure appears to be trying, huh?" 02 laughed, bitter sparks of anger spiking his voice. 

Trowa looked uncomfortable. "So...it's like how you're going to...stop existing tonight? Time is catching up to you?"

"Exactly," 02 nodded, closing his eyes briefly and forcing the animosity out of his expression. "I'm not angry at you, I'm sorry if I gave you that impression. Put yourself in my place for a moment, though. Every time I look at you, I see the ghost of a man I worked beside for ten years. Except you're not wheelchair bound. And you have a future. And you still more life in your eyes."

02 swallowed thickly, rubbing his hands together, forcing circulation in them. They were cold. He was cold. Maybe he should close that window. No, he shouldn't. He glanced behind him at Heero, felt warmer, and continued. "My life is ending, and yours is just beginning. I envy you...and I'm afraid. Forgive me for that weakness."

"There is nothing to forgive," Trowa spoke softly, but with conviction. He crossed the room and crouched down in front of where 02 sat on the bed. "I admire you more than you know. To give your life, your everything, for your cause...I one day hope to do what you have done. I one day want to have that kind of bravery. Heero proved his courage, by self-destructing. What you have done is simply amazing. I..."

02 cut Trowa off, strange premonition welling in his heart. This was not a healthy admiration. "Take it from a man who's about to lose his life, from someone whose existence is about to be erased from your memory, from everyone's memory...don't take such things for granted."

Trowa frowned.

"Self-destruction is worthless," 02 started again, trying to get his point across. "What I've had to do is insane. It should never have been necessary. When a soldier has to lose his life in this modern type of warfare, there has been a gross miscalculation or major calamity, a tragedy. It should not be **admired** , it should be **mourned**."

"How can you say that?" Trowa rocked back from his crouched position to settle on his heels. "You're just trying to sound modest. I understand." The boy nodded thoughtfully, a faraway look already settled in his eyes.

But Trowa didn't understand. Not at all. 

02 sighed. Hopefully, someone would be able to stop Trowa from carrying out this ambition...life was too precious. Life and memory...perhaps the young soldier would one day understand. 

But 02 didn't think Trowa would, not until it was too late.

Perhaps this was meant to be.

02 sighed and let it go. Trowa would have to learn for himself. The scientist only hoped that it wouldn't be a lethal lesson. 

3 hours left. 

Trowa went outside then, promising to return. 02 knew that neither he nor Catherine would be back, not for him to see. He didn't know how he knew...he just...he just did.

02 closed his eyes and took a steadying breath, training his senses to focus only on Heero. The scientist was not sure when exactly the boy would awaken, but he had to be ready. Until he did wake up, though, it would take all of 02's mental and physical reserves to stay lucid and collected. The man had things he wanted to say, things he needed to say...but as time was running out, he could feel his inner equilibrium crumbling. He needed to focus. He must hang on. For Heero.

Until he awoke.

02 concentrated. He waited. Time passed.

~ ~ ~ ~

Outside, Catherine and Trowa sat together on the makeshift cinderblock and plank steps of the trailer. They sat side by side; the older of the two had her legs folded perpendicular to the ground with her fingers laced together on top of her knees, placed as though she were in prayer. The soldier had bowed his head and let his bangs hide his eyes as he stared down at where his arms were crossed over his chest. His legs were stretched straight in front of him, crossed at the ankles. 

They shared silence for what seemed like a short eternity, lost in their respective thoughts while they guarded the trailer's only exit.

"Trowa?" Catherine broke the still air. Almost on cue, a gentle breeze stirred around them.

"Hm?"

"Who's crazier? Him, for coming up with that story..." She paused, swallowing. "Or me for believing most of it?"

Trowa didn't look up from behind his veil of bangs. He sighed quietly before answering. "Nobody's crazy. I, myself, don't know what to believe. If we're to take everything he said at his word, then it doesn't matter anyway. In a few hours, it won't matter."

"I refuse to accept that," Catherine whispered, her voice strong despite her hushed tone. "It **does** matter. But I have a hard time understanding it all...it seems so unreal. That a person can just...stop being. That's terrible."

"I wouldn't have believed any of it, not if it weren't for the actual evidence," Trowa spoke after a long period of quiet. "Not only the hard evidence, like the disappearing hair follicles he showed you, but just the way 02 himself has changed. Catherine, you've seen how his physical appearance has changed, but you have no idea how much his personality has also changed. It's as though...I don't know how to say it. It's as though he was broken before, and now has healed, despite what he keeps saying about his brain and mind deteriorating."

Catherine chewed her lower lip. "About that brain deterioration..."

Trowa canted his head to the side and looked at her. "Yeah?"

"Do you really think that Heero is awake when we're not there?" She asked bluntly.

Trowa answered in a voice devoid of emotion. "It is improbable, and it is inconsistent with what 02 has told us. According to everything else he has said, after tonight we'd forget everything involving 02. That would include Heero being awake, right? So why would we keep missing him? It makes no sense." 

"Thank goodness," Catherine sighed, letting one hand flutter up to cover her heart. "I was afraid I was being unfair. I didn't want to mention it because I thought those delusions were helping 02 along."

The soldier nodded, life once again entering his tone. "I understand what you mean...but..."

"But?"

"I can't say for sure whether I think 02 is delusional or not. Logically, yes, he probably is..." Trowa let his voice trail off. He checked his watch. Supposedly, 02 had very little time left. Less than an hour.

"How about we stay here for a little while longer?" Catherine spoke up after a moment of silence. She had seen the time on Trowa's watch. "We can talk this over in the morning..."

**_If we still remember._ **

Some things are better left unsaid.

Before long, 02's voice drifted out of the open window of the trailer. Was it a one-sided conversation...or where Heero's replies too soft to be heard?

The pair on the steps did not know.

~ ~ ~ ~

02 opened his eyes as a cool breeze fluttered in through the open window. It was time. Heero had woken up. 

"Hi," the scientist said, smiling down at the soldier. 

Dark blue eyes blinked in response. Heero yawned, his jaw stretching widely. Then sudden urgency flooded his expression. "What time is it?" He whispered, his voice almost too faint to be heard over the fluttering of the curtains. It was good that 02 could read lips.

"I don't have long. The end is almost here," 02 answered, suddenly standing. He had to walk, one last time. To the window and back, he could manage it. He stopped, adjusting the curtains. "Heero. I wanted to thank you."

"For what?" The soldier's faint voice was all but masked by 02's returning footsteps. It was so hard to walk, to stay balanced. Balance.

"For existing. Your example, even if it I misunderstood, kept me going for ten years. Then, when I meet you again, you set me straight. You fixed my broken soul. It sounds so trite, but it's the truth. I couldn't let myself go without telling you that, without thanking you. I owe you everything that I am," 02 whispered, his voice thickening. He closed his eyes.

"I--" 

"Please, although I know that you cannot possibly keep this promise...I know that you will try to...promise to work for peace, no matter what. You deserve to live in a future where the threat of war will not follow your every step. Find peace," The man took a ragged breath.

Heero was silent, then a crooked little grin flittered across his face. "All right. Peace. I actually wanted that anyway." 

"Good," 02 nodded firmly.

They sat in silence. Time passed.

"02."

"Yes?"

"You are Duo. And I will remember you. I will protect you. I promise you that. I will," Heero whispered, his eyes already beginning to slide shut. Fear suddenly burned in his eyes as he comprehended what that sudden weariness had to mean. He fought the unconsciousness as the deadline rushed upon them.

02's heart nearly stopped, both from Heero's words and the feeling of death approaching. And yet...he felt the final completion within himself. He leaned forward and kissed Heero's forehead, breathing in the boy's scent. The last thing he would ever smell...

A single tear fell from 02's eye, disappearing between blinks before it hit the bed.

"But you can't remember," 02 protested weakly.

"I will."

"Heero, I think somewhere along the way, I started to love you. Good bye," 02 whispered.

Heero's eyes slid closed.

02 blinked.

~ ~ ~ ~

Outside, Catherine looked up at the stars. "The sky is beautiful tonight, Trowa, but why are we out here this late?"

Confused marked Trowa's face. "I--I'm not sure."

The wind blew.

~ ~ ~ ~

### The Cadence of Time: Epilogue

**Echoes**

Heero Yuy felt the darkness around him shift into warmth and pale shadows of golden sunlight. The harsh sounds of a vid-set and the soft scent of perfume alerted him to another person's presence. Instincts muddled by injury and semi-consciousness fumbled for the person's identity. 

Perfume...feminine voice, a unique metallic clicking...knitting needles, perhaps? Where was he? He didn't feel as though he had been captured, and his surroundings somehow felt pleasant...

Heero fumbled with his hazy snatches of memory...a male voice in his head whispering for peace...the vid-set...a woman newscaster...she spoke of war...indistinct memory shifts...confusion...the only female who could possibly have the persistence to find him was Relena. There was a girl by the vid-set. 

"Relena?" He mumbled unintentionally as he propped himself up on an elbow.

She was definitely not Relena. Good. This girl had short bouncy hair and wide eyes. Yeah, and she was also knitting. She was happy that he was conscious and told him to wait while she got someone named Trowa. 

The girl also acted as though he knew this "Trowa" person. Maybe he should have. Heero felt as though he was missing something vital, as though a chunk of his memory was stolen from his mind. 

Maybe he did know "Trowa." Could he have some form of post traumatic memory loss from the explosion? But then, how could he remember the explosion itself? That did not make sense. Heero kept his face passive, but he was worried. 

Before the girl could leave, though, a door to the outside opened and the pilot of Gundam 03 stepped into the small trailer. Ah, so the pilot's name must be Trowa. The girl confirmed it a split second later by greeting him, "Trowa, your friend has woken up!"

Friend? Maybe Heero **was** missing something here. Or maybe it was just the girl reading too much into the situation. However, the injured soldier still felt as though something critical was lurking a hairsbreadth out of reach in the back of his mind. Perhaps it was his lack of information.

The girl left then, saying something about making soup. Heero reasoned that she probably knew at least something about Trowa's status as a Gundam pilot, and since she had also been watching after him, she perhaps could be trusted to a certain extent. Evidently she understood that the two soldiers needed to discuss not only the status of Oz, but also the extent of Heero's injuries. It was discerning of her, not to mention considerate. Heero filed away his observations for later thought. He would probably be staying here until he recovered more fully, and therefore should learn about the people around him in this place. Wherever "this place" happened to be.

"Where am I?" Heero asked as soon as she was gone, forcing himself to sit up in the bed. He would not show any more weakness than absolutely necessary.

Trowa moved deeper into the small room and sat in the same place the girl had recently vacated. "Along the route with a traveling circus. It's where I hide myself."

Heero shifted minutely, ignoring a dull ache in his side. The other pilot's answer was efficient, but it was not unfriendly. "Why did you save me? I was supposed to die." He paused, a sharp pain lacing through his ribcage. 

The truth of that statement seemed to echo within him. It felt right...and yet so wrong at the same time. Heero made sure his face remained a careful blank.

The corner of Trowa's mouth twitched subtly before settling into a smirk as he glanced over his shoulder. The one green eye Heero could see from Trowa's presented profile seemed to flicker strangely at Heero's words, but the injured soldier wasn't sure if he had imagined the reaction. 

Trowa responded. "You died a long time ago."

"Huh?" A grunt of surprise escaped the pilot's lips before he could stop it, and his face lost its passiveness. What a strange thing to say, especially with what Heero had been thinking...

He was slightly relieved to notice that Trowa hadn't been paying attention, and therefore hadn't seen his unprofessional reaction. An Oz spokesperson had begun a press conference on the vid-set, spewing forth his smooth anti-colony rhetoric. Witnessing the propaganda machine in motion, Heero felt a wave of disgust.

"A month has passed and Oz hasn't touched the colonies. They are just controlling the nations of Earth with their military power," Trowa informed Heero as he watched the blond spokesman.

"A month has passed?" Heero echoed. A month? Unbelievable. No wonder he felt so...off. So **that** was why Trowa had made that strange comment about him being dead. It made sense now...so why did that nagging sensation still echo in his mind? 

Something was missing, something he needed to remember. He needed more information.

Their conversation continued, but Heero still felt plagued. His trust in Trowa rose steadily with every passing minute, especially when the other pilot confessed that he was unsure of himself due to the lack of missions. Heero thought for a moment, letting his shoulders relax slightly. He considered what to do, observing the other pilot out of the corner of his eye.

Trowa stood by a window, leaning against the sill. The curtains fluttered. For some reason, Heero found himself wondering what Duo would do in this situation. Just ask?

"I've got a big favor to ask you, Trowa," Heero started, shifting so he could look the other teenager in the eye. "Could you tell me what was going on while I was lying here unconscious?"

A long look passed between them before Trowa moved away from the window. "Sure thing."

But nothing Trowa said made the echoes go away. 

Of course, Trowa had his own echoes to deal with. Life and memory.

~ ~ ~ ~

Heero began to think that the strange echoing in his mind was coming from his conscience, punishing him for killing Noventa.

He was wrong. 

Even after meeting Sylvia Noventa, the odd sensation persisted. 

Something was missing. Something he needed to do...

He must find it.

~ ~ ~ ~

Not even in battle... 

At the South Pole, fighting Zechs, even in the heat of the moment, Heero couldn't rid himself completely of the strange feeling. A gap. It was starting to annoy him, bother him, even go so far as to anger him.

He needed to **do** something. Some obligation, perhaps? No, it had to be something more important than that, it couldn't be something as simple as a mere obligation. Perhaps something deeper, a responsibility, a promise? Otherwise he wouldn't have such an emotional investment in it. But what? But what? It was frustrating. 

Everything was starting to get so complicated. 

~ ~ ~ ~

Returning to space was almost a relief. It felt...right. Perhaps what he was seeking could be found amongst the dark void of the vacuum and the tiny pinpricks of the distant stars. Even though he knew he was changing, maturing, adapting to the new situations more easily...Heero knew there was something he still had to do to make that weird emptiness go away. 

Something else.

But what was it?

He hoped he would understand when the time came.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

So time passed. The important faded into memory hand and hand with the inconsequential. Then the echoes converged into a deafening crescendo, demanding action.

A fellow Gundam pilot had been captured. Duo.

Heero hadn't seen the pilot of Deathscythe since before he had self-destructed Wing, and while the other boy didn't exactly consume his thoughts, he did find himself wondering about Duo at the most unusual times. Almost like Relena, only a bit different, especially considering he and Duo's brief but intense physical relationship at that boarding school. Oddly enough, Heero had enrolled himself at his current cover school under Duo's name without even thinking about it. Duo had made a unique impression on him. They were friends, at the very least. But war was not the time to entangle oneself. Complications were painful, and confusing. So confusing.

...But now Duo was proving himself to be a potential liability. Not only was his Gundam in danger, but all the secrets that the boy himself possessed were at risk, as well as his skills as a pilot; those were all in jeopardy, ready to be plucked from him by the greedy vultures of Oz. Who knows what those unscrupulous bastards would do to a prisoner? Any means justify the end to them. 

Besides...the uneasiness Heero had felt ever since he had woken from his long bout of unconsciousness screamed that something needed to be done. He had a decidedly **bad** feeling about this, and Heero always said that people should act on their emotions. He didn't want to be hypocrite. He recognized that he had varied interest invested in the mission.

So he acted. Before Heero realized what he was really doing, he had hacked the necessary information and had launched an infiltration on the base that Duo was being held. Wearing relatively casual clothing as part of his cover and carrying only one handgun, the soldier felt slightly reckless despite his controlled exterior.

As high-speed elevator carried him down to the level were they were holding the Deathscythe pilot, Heero steeled himself. The strangeness in his head had to be put aside, despite how it was now howling at him, beating on the back of his mind and demanding attention. He forced himself to lean casually against the back wall of the elevator and cross his arms over his chest so his hands wouldn't shake. What was wrong with him? 

Control. He was on a mission.

He fully intended to kill Duo if the other boy proved to be a liability. He had a feeling that Duo would rather be dead than weak, anyway. **Damn** how Heero may really feel about it. Only the mission...and what Duo would want. Both must be considered.

The doors opened in front of Heero, but before he could step out, a pair of Oz soldiers in privates' uniforms walked past, blocking his path momentarily. Heero slipped out of the elevator and fell into step behind them; they were headed the same direction as Duo's cell, if his hacking had provided him with accurate information.

"How long do you think that little Gundam pilot will last, ya know, with out getting fucked into next week?" The short blond soldier on the left was saying. "I swear, when we were in the interrogation room earlier, ya know, when the little guy was being questioned was being questioned by Chavez? I could almost **see** the fuckin' hamster wheel turning in Tony's little pinhead."

Heero's eyes widened fractionally as he continued along behind them. Surely the soldier didn't mean...

"What, you think he'd actually try something on such a high-profile prisoner?" The other Oz private laughed nervously, turning his head to look down at his companion with a slightly squeamish expression. "Seriously?"

"Fuck, yeah, seriously. Tony's a grade-A asshole with no regard to common sense. Loves those sick little power games and shit. He gets off on 'em. Power trippin' and shit, ya know? The only reason he ain't been court marshaled or somethin' is because he's got family in the higher ups," the blond replied, sneering. 

"Damn, really?" The taller private looked nervous.

"Yeah, really," the other private, popping his neck with a loud crack. "And with all the shit that's been going down, I'll bet somebody on shift is eventually gonna to take some cash and let Tony...or someone, anyway...in for some sick shit, ya know?"

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. Makes me want to toss my lunch, ya know? People don't respect the rights of a prisoner, but hey, especially since he's gonna get fuckin' executed, a lot of people just turn a blind eye and think, 'What the fuck!' **literally** ," the blond snickered, more out of discomfort than humor. "Fuckin' sucks. He's just a kid, ya know?"

"Damn."

"Yeah. Ya know? Yeah--"

The two soldiers turned suddenly down a different corridor, disappearing off to the right.

Heero forced himself continued moving, his eyes hard and frozen while he fought to keep his breathing under control. Had to stay in his cover until he reached Duo's cell. 

Yeah, he knew about death and about war. He knew about what happened to some prisoners, he knew about torture and pain...but...he didn't want to think about that kind of thing happening to Duo. What the Oz soldiers had been alluding to...disgusting. 

Heero felt ice shoot down his spine. What could that kind of thing do to someone like Duo? 

Heero saw an image in his head of an icy, hard-faced, dead-eyed version of his friend, hair brushing the tops of his shoulders and looking at least ten years older. The vision flashed on the back of his eyelids as he blinked and then was gone. He blinked again, but the image didn't come back. Heero shook his head minutely, forcing a mental picture of longhaired, sparkling-eyed Duo to the forefront of his mind. That other image was so real, though...unnervingly so.

It was so real that it was surreal. Almost as though Heero had seen that other Duo with his own eyes.

Maybe that was what he was supposed to stop.

He quickened his pace to a run, turning down the appropriate hallway. There. 

One guard, no other personnel in the immediate vicinity. Excellent.

Quickly, Heero took out the guard, forcing down the lump that had choked up into the back of his throat when he had overheard the two privates' conversation. Had he been too late? What would he do if they had already done something to Duo? If this guard had let something happen to Duo...he held onto his rage and let it steel him against the possibility of seeing that dead-eyed, cold version of his friend. 

Heero hoisted the unconscious guard over his shoulder and opened the door. As soon as he caught sight of Duo sitting against the back wall of the small cell, he let out a tiny exhalation and dropped the guard to the floor. Duo appeared to be fine. At least, at the **moment**. But had he already been compromised? Broken? Was this apparent normalcy a facade? 

Heero snapped his other concerns to the back of his mind, focusing once again on the more logical aspects of the mission. One thing at a time.

Immediately Duo forced amusement into his voice and he raised his head. "What a surprise. You really are superhuman." 

He didn't respond, couldn't, except to raise his gun. He had to be ready to kill Duo. If Duo **was** broken, then he wouldn't be Duo anymore. Not Duo...someone else. Heero wasn't sure **how** he knew this, why he was so certain of it, but the echoes in his head were suddenly back, louder than ever, bouncing around inside his skull painfully. 

Duo's eyes widened at the sight of the shining gun in the shadowy darkness of the cell. Tilting his head up, he let a tiny sigh escape his lips as he struggled to his feet. "Just in time. They were about to use me and my Gundam for their plans," he paused, swallowing to keep his voice even. No fear laced his tone, but Duo didn't meet Heero's eyes or look at the outstretched weapon as he fought to stand. "If I'm gonna die, then this seems like the way to go."

The pilot of Deathscythe finally leaned back against the wall, glanced briefly at Heero before closing his eyes quickly and tilting his head back. He squared his shoulders, keeping his voice calm. "Go ahead and shoot me."

Heero narrowed his eyes and aimed, clenching his jaw even as his hand squeezed evenly around the gun, putting pressure on the trigger. Then he changed his focus from the sights of the handgun to look long and hard at Duo. 

He saw the flash of that other face overlaying Duo's sweating and frightened visage, the other Duo that looked older, harder, stronger....yet somehow more vulnerable than the one standing before him. 

But the same, nonetheless. 

For some reason, the situation felt strangely familiar. Heero didn't believe in destiny or fate, but he felt as though he and Duo had gone through this situation before. But when had he held Duo's life in his hands?

Heero drew in a shallow breath. 

What the hell was he doing? Duo hadn't been broken. Here he was, ready to face death rather than be compromised. He was willing to let Heero kill him...

Heero. Could. Not. Kill. Him. 

He had to protect Duo, get him out of here. He knew this beyond a shadow of a doubt. This was something he needed to do. He just wasn't sure **why**. He stared over the top of the gun at Duo, his hand steady, the pressure now released from the trigger. 

The echoes...

He couldn't let that dead-eyed version of Duo ever come into existence, either. He'd just have to protect him, to stop that from happening. 

Yes. He would.

Heero's decision was made. The broken circle came together.

It influenced the rest of Heero's life. 

But it also affected the life of another...

That other Duo would never have to exist.

And so the last echoes faded...

~ ~ ~ ~

 

 

 

 

 

War, peace, and revolution: the ancient rhythm beats constantly forward...

Or sometimes backward...

Time's own cadence continues to play, its own chosen beat twisting as it deems fit, constantly changing and straining, rewarding and taking away...

Songs of life play in between, seamless, yet broken, but still hopelessly attached to the ancient tempo.

In this tragic symphony...

A simple, balanced duet began to play...

And it lasted a lifetime.

 

 

 

 

~ ~ ~ ~


End file.
